


Collection of Bleach Fics

by greenbean_aquamarine_queen



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-06-02 22:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15142073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbean_aquamarine_queen/pseuds/greenbean_aquamarine_queen
Summary: Hello all, I am maybe a decade late to the Bleach game but who cares? A compilation of Bleach character/reader fics, most are nsfw and most are one shots, will specify in each chapter.





	1. Shuuhei/Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SFW! Reader is the 5th Seat of Squad 9 and Shuuhei has finally worked up the courage/was bullied enough by his friends to try to ask you out. Let’s see how it goes! Guest starring Kensei and Mashiro as themselves and Renji as a drunken giver of sagely advice.

The sun rose and promised a gentle spring day, a bright stepping stone before the oppressive summer heat settled in like a thick haze. It was days like today that Shuuhei was thankful for, as no matter the weather or condition, Kensei took no excuse in any of his men, let alone one of his Lieutenants, missing the daily morning workout. According to him, morning was the best time for exercise, developing a kick start to the body’s muscle memory and waking up the mind for the day ahead. Shuuhei wasn’t sure if this was some of bogus Earth myth rubbing off on him, but he kept quiet. He didn’t want to challenge his Captain on a matter that was more or less beneficial to the squad and that honestly should have been done anyways. Under Tosen’s command, it was up to the individual to remain in adequate health for duty. Shuuhei, for the time he lead Squad 9, kept this philosophy partly because he believed it and partly because he didn’t have the mental resources to hound every individual.

But Kensei demanded it, shortly stating it encouraged comradery on top of the before mentioned benefits. Shuuhei privately thought it encouraged a mutual sense of impending doom each morning, but there was one undeniable bright side. Each morning he got to spend more time with you and the added bonus of you usually being sweaty and shedding layers as the workout went on was highly appreciated.

Though you had been with the squad for a while, it was only recently that Shuuhei had actually been able to start talking to you beyond snippets of conversations between missions, dropping off reports at desks, and his responsibilities as a Lieutenant. Before Tosen’s defection, you had been seated in the double digits, and while he knew enough about you to recognize he wanted to know you better, the professional distance and his responsibilities kept him busy. After Tosen’s defection, you had apparently crossed a new threshold of motivation; you rose quickly through the ranks partly due to fatalities or transfers of other seated officers but mostly through your own diligent hard work. By the time Kensei was comfortably re-established as Captain, you held the 5th Seat, though Shuuhei recognized that you could easily hold 4th or even 3rd. That had moved your desk closer to Shuuhei’s and now that he not only had a Captain back but also a Lieutenant to split duties with, he found himself with more free time and a renewed interest.

By the time Kensei called the work out for the day, every individual aside from Mashiro was streaked with dirt and sweat. After one too many peppy comments, Kensei ordered Mashiro to run another twenty laps around the courtyard while everyone else filed inside to find relief from the sun and retrieve their breakfasts. Everyone on the first day had eaten beforehand, thinking it would give them energy, sustain their work out, and prevent nausea and muscle cramping. Everyone on the first day had been wrong, though you could at least pride yourselves on being quick learners.

Shuuhei held back, noting you were fixing a strap on your sandal before heading inside. He grabbed his water and towel and made his way towards you, offering you yours when you stood back up.

“Thanks,” you said, flashing him a quick smile.

“No problem,” he replied, drinking from his water bottle without looking away. You splashed some water onto the corner of the towel and moped off your face, trying to be somewhat clean before heading inside. “Pretty brutal today, huh?”

“Nah, it could’ve been worse.” The two of you shared a knowing smile; you both knew if Kensei heard anyone say that, the entire squad would suffer for it. “But in all seriousness, I’m feeling pretty good about it. I beat about half of my old records from a few months ago. It’s nice to see progress.”

Shuuhei admired your dedication, always looking forward and not letting your past deter you from positive change. You had told him, once, that you worried you held onto things for too long and dwelled too much on the past. But, you had figured, even if you did, it was alright as long as it didn’t prevent forward momentum. You had said it casually, an offhanded remark somewhere in the break room and Shuuhei couldn’t even remember the context of it because the day had been so unremarkable up until that point. It was back when you were still in the double digits and he barely knew you more than your name and face. He figured that was the moment when he really saw you. Then he couldn’t stop seeing you.

“Hey, that’s awesome. Good for you.” He inwardly cringed, hoping the words didn’t sound patronizing, but your smile was bright when you said thanks. When you stopped to fix your sandal again, Shuuhei grimaced at the lukewarm water in the bottle and dumped the remainder of it over his head, hoping he could wash off some of the sweat before talking to you seriously. He missed your gaze crawling over him while he rubbed the water from his eyes.

You two continued to chat once you were inside, and he walked with you as you beelined towards the counter. One of the many changes that were made to the Squad 9 Barracks was the modernization of the design and the Earth objects that kept appearing. Some of them, like the pencil sharpener drilled into the side of a desk over a trashcan, Shuuhei found ingenious. Others, like the can of pressurized scented spray that Mashiro liked to spray around the room randomly, he saw no point in.

The blender was typically considered one of the ingenious items, and several officers had taken to it immediately, yourself included. Shuuhei had to admit that the beverages it produced could be good, but he didn’t trust some of the stuff that was put into it. Mashiro in particular would throw all sorts of fruits and vegetables into it and the resulting color and smell made Shuuhei cautious. And it was loud.

But you liked it, and he followed you as you waited to use it. The two of you talked casually in line about whatever came to mind; he admitted that he had been a little hungover this morning from drinking with Izuru and Renji the night before, you told him the story of the first time you ever drank and he almost felt bad at laughing, but you were laughing too so maybe it was okay. He leaned against the counter and watched you as you playfully yelled, “Asshole!” to the officer who didn’t clean out the blender after he used it, rinse it out yourself, and then threw in your ingredients with practiced ease. He loved watching you move, even just doing casual, day-to-day tasked. You carried yourself with a certain kind of comfort and honesty that he rarely saw in others. Many Shinigami strutted or lazed about, trying to appear important and strong. You knew how to move with purpose, but he loved how at ease with the world you looked, even if it was just when you were adding a few more ice cubes to your smoothie.

He tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach and was thankful Kensei had upped the intensity of the workout; any shaking limbs he could blame on fatigue. He had been thinking about you for months, over a year by this point, and last night was when Renji and Izuru finally put their foot down and demanded he just ask you out already. “You’ve known her for years,” Renji pointed out, drunkenly stabbing a finger at him. “You’ve been talking about her for years, been fanboying over her non-stop for the last one, and don’t tell me it’s because of your seated positions or responsibilities or whatever because literally nobody cares.” Izuru had been less aggressive, but not so subtly hinted that Shuuhei should make some kind of move. After some more grousing and a few more drinks, Renji leaned in close and told him that he wishes he hadn’t waited so long with Rukia, and learn from his mistakes and just ask her out already, goddammit. Shuuhei, slightly panicked and very drunk, promised that he would, mostly to spare them all the secondhand embarrassment of remembering Renji’s cringing interactions with Rukia over the course of decades.

Of course, that was when he was drunk and pressured. Now he was sober, acutely aware of your body and scent, and wishing he hadn’t made that promise. You turned to him and asked if he was going to make anything. Ears burning, hoping you hadn’t seen him watching you, he said sure and protested when you started cleaning out the blender for him. Your hands brushed his when you shrugged after his repeated insistence that he do it, and he felt his resolve waver. It’s just a few simple words, he tried to convince himself, throwing ingredients in the blender without really noticing them. He tried very hard to not think of the outcome.

“What?” he asked, raising his voice over the whirl of the blades and the blender’s motor.

“I said I never would’ve thought to mix blueberries and papaya,” you shouted back. He tried hard not to stare at the curve of your hip as it rested on the counter.

“I like you,” he said, the words falling out of his mouth without his consent.

“What?”

“I said I like blue!” he lowered his voice as he turned the blender off, praying he wasn’t blushing. “It makes an interesting color,” he added lamely, gesturing to the drink. It was indeed a color that could vaguely resemble blue. He poured it into a cup and gave the blender a quick rinse, allowing the next person in line to use it. He nodded towards the far wall and you followed, putting some space between the two of you and the blender.

“Can I try?” you asked. He nodded and watched your lips close around the lid of the cup. Then you grimaced and said dubiously, “You’ve got an interesting taste. I think I’ll stick with mine.” Shuuhei took a sip and grimaced as well; he liked papaya and blueberries independently well enough, but the two together along with whatever else he had thrown in there tasted as awful as the rapidly receding color looked. “How long do you think it will take Mashiro to finish her laps?” you asked.

“I don’t know. It’s a big field.” Shuuhei barely glanced out the window to his green-haired counterpart sprinting wildly around the courtyard.

“At least Captain Muguruma didn’t make us go with her. It’s kind of nice that he isolates his annoyance with her to just her, you know?”

“Yeah.” He was sure if he tried he would have known what you were saying, but most of his thoughts were in a frenzied mantra of, _Just do it_. “Hey, uh, Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?” What’s up? Somehow you pulled off a casual friendliness while still being respectful of rank. He had noticed it with your interactions with others and he never understood how you found that balance. Maybe it was a good sign, a sign that you were comfortable with him and that you liked him. Maybe it was…

“I, uh…would you—“

The sound of the blender on its highest setting cut him off. You both winced at the sound and glanced over at Kensei, who stared at the blender as impassively as ever while he waited for it to grind up whatever he had thrown into it. Possibly an entire flank of frozen steak. You met Shuuhei’s eyes and laughed a bit, inaudible over the sound of the blender but it lit up your eyes and pulled your lips into a gentle smile. Shuuhei laughed a bit too, scratching the back of his head while you shrugged helplessly. Shuuhei felt his resolve draining and tried to hold onto it. It was slipping through his hands as easily as his now-congealing smoothie would. The wait for Kensei’s smoothie to be made felt far longer than it should have, and when the sound finally stopped there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Geez, you’d think he blended a whole cornfield, the way that was going,” you commented.

“I was about to joke about him grinding up some beef, but judging by its color I think I might be right.”

“Nah, that’s probably beets.” You noticed his confused look. “You’ve never had beets?” He shook his head. “So they’re this red root, kind of like a round, red carrot, and they stain absolutely everything. If you mix it with something it’s almost definitely going to come out in beet color, but they’re supposed to be really good for you. And they taste kind of sweet, like corn.” You glanced up at him curiously. “Have you never heard the expression ‘beet red’?”

“Yeah, I have. I just figured it was the other kind of beat.” You told him that was awful even as you laughed, and Shuuhei chuckled, acknowledging that the expression made more sense now. Trying to steer the conversation away from his misconceptions, he teased, “I didn’t realize you were so knowledgeable about food.”

You grinned and shrugged. “I’m not really. I just like trying things in the human world, and then Captain Muguruma and I had a long talk about nutrition a few weeks back. It was pretty fascinating.” Shuuhei felt a perk of confidence; he could cook for you, he could teach you about food. That perk plummeted when you said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. You wanted to ask me something?”

“Oh, yeah.” Shuuhei grasped for metaphorical straws, hoping his confidence lay somewhere within them. “I, uh.” He coughed. “Well, speaking of food, I was wondering, would you want to—“

The blender came back on full blast. Shuuhei could feel the world spiraling out of control as fast as the blender blades were spinning. His sense of reality and confidence was like the frozen fruit, being sliced into oblivion. _This is not happening. I was just going to ask her. I just needed two more seconds._ You rolled your eyes and grinned again, this time a bit less good-humored. Shuuhei couldn’t even smile back. The wait for the blender to turn back off was shorter this time, but it took him a few seconds to register he had his chance.

“Huh, looks like Mashiro’s done,” you said offhandedly before he could get a word out. He glanced towards the door; Mashiro rushed through and began piling fruit and liquids into the blender, not even bothering to rinse it out first. “Anyways…third time’s the charm?” you joked. He could tell you sensed his uneasiness. For a moment he relaxed, grateful for your concern, but then when he re-opened his mouth the blender came back on.

You saw his expression drop and decided to take pity on him, moving in closer and putting a hand to your ear. He stiffened, then gulped and leaned in close enough so that his lips were nearly brushing your ear. Even covered in recent sweat and dirt, you smelled amazing. Shuuhei tried to keep his thoughts from wandering, not wanting to imagine the sounds you’d make if he nibbled on your earlobe. He knew the resulting nosebleed would be less than pleasant for either of you. Instead he took a shuddering breath and said, “I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me this evening.”

You drew back, eyebrows knitted in confusion, and for a fearful second Shuuhei thought you were going to say no. His fear grew to horrified disbelief when you mouthed, “What?” and leaned in again. “I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me this evening,” he said louder, trying to be heard without having to shout.

“One more time,” you laughed, barely audible over the blender.

 _For fuck’s sake_. “I was wondering,” he shouted, “If you’d like to go out with me this—“ He stopped dead, face rapidly reinforcing the new definition of “beet red” he had learned. The entire room was deafeningly silent, Mashiro having finally turned off the blender partway through his inquiry. Every face was turned towards the two of you, smoothies and breakfasts forgotten. Shuuhei withdrew, eyes wide and brain sputtering for something to say or do to fix the situation before it gave up and collapsed. The seconds passed. In the adjacent corner, Kensei had his forehead in his hand as he rubbed his temples. Mashiro, eyes wide, smoothie forgotten, had one hand clamped over her mouth and the other pointing at you two as if no one else had noticed what just happened.

He barely noticed this. He stared at you. Your face was as red as his and you looked at him like he had grown five heads. Inwardly, he wished he could get rid of the one he had now just so he wouldn’t have to face the impending rejection and subsequent embarrassment. He shouldn’t have done this. You clearly hadn’t been interested. He was a Lieutenant, this was totally unprofessional, he was going to have to resign and run away to the mountains and make a living being a street performer with his guitar and—

“Uh, I made plans to meet up with Rangiku and Nanao later,” you said, slowly, as if weighing each word before letting it drop from your lips. “But I could do dinner any other night this week, if you want?”

Shuuhei had to bite his tongue to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It felt like a dream. As soon as you spoke, the rest of the room had been forgotten. There was only you, offering to have dinner with him. Wanting to spend time with him after he screamed in your ear and made a scene in front of most of the seated officers of your Division. Mashiro was slapping Kensei’s arm with her hand, quiet and intangible noises coming from her throat. He growled a low, “I know,” that went unheard by both of you. Because you weren’t looking at them either. You had an apprehensive look on your face and that’s when he realized he hadn’t answered. “Uh, if you wanted to go out to eat we could do tomorrow. But if you wanted, I could cook something, though I’d need some time to go shopping.”

Your face split into an incredulous smile. “You could cook something?” you repeated.

“Yeah.” Shuuhei felt empowered by your hopefulness and he smiled too, a grin settling easily onto his face. There was a squealing sound, maybe Mashiro, maybe the blender. “Anything you’d like.”

He felt his heart skip a beat when you giggled, partially nervous and partially giddy with disbelief. “Um, give me a bit? I’m not really thinking straight at the moment.”

“Then here’s something to clear your head. Y/N, go do ten more laps!”

“Yes sir!” Your face still hadn’t lost its blush, but you grinned at your Captain anyways. Kensei looked away, clearly feeling as embarrassed as the two of you did. “Here, hold my drink?” you asked, not waiting for an answer before you slipped your smoothie into Shuuhei’s hand. “See you in a bit,” you said, still grinning, before picking your way through the tables and exiting, tossing off both your sandals when the strap from earlier broke for good. Shuuhei watched you go and continued watching as you began jogging barefoot, still not entirely sure this had all just happened.

“Hisagi, get your head out of the clouds and go take out the trash.” Shuuhei startled and looked at Kensei, who shrugged and muttered, “About fucking time,” before stalking away. Mahsiro gave him two thumbs up before yelling at the other officers that there was nothing to see here, get back to work, make sure to clean up their plates, and so on. Shuuhei stood still for another moment, then glanced down at the smoothies in his hands. He tossed his out, then shrugged and took a sip of yours. His eyes widened in surprise. It was fucking good.

And, now that he looked closer, it looked and tasted suspiciously like beets. He’d have to get you to give him some recipes.

* * *

End Notes: Idk, poor Shuuhei is just fun to pick on. Also my first time ever trying something like this, so yeah....updates will be made soon. Other characters currently in the works are more Shuuhei, Izuru, Kisuke, Gin, and Aizen.


	2. Gin/Reader Pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is the 3rd Seat of the 3rd Division and this time one of Gin's pranks takes an unexpected turn. As a side note, this got out of control very quickly. I had the plot down immediately, started writing, and realized there was no way it was going to fit into one chapter. But maybe that fits for Gin’s character, he’s a slow burn kind of person. I mean, he spent 100+ years plotting a single sword stab for fuck’s sake. Anyways, takes place before the plot of Bleach.

“Dammit!” you shouted, feeling the slightest brush of fabric against your fingertips before they met open air. Seconds later your open palm slammed into the wooden railing, preventing a fall of about fifty feet from the walkway to the ground. The rest of your body, carried by momentum, tried to follow but your reflexes were fast and you had already turned to continue running, digging the balls of your feet into the floor to launch towards your target. Immediately, you regretted the lapse in control of your fraying temper; Gin laughed over his shoulder as he briefly made eye contact with you, mocking you as he stayed just close to be a possibility and just far enough that he kept you in hot pursuit. The unspoken acknowledgement that you’d never catch him without his permission only added insult to injury. You grit your teeth and continued chasing him, knowing better than to demand that he stop, turn around, slow down, or give you back your goddamn zanpakuto. It would be a waste of breath, make you look silly, and give him even more amusement. You had carefully observed your Captain and his weird mental games long enough to pick up on some of the finer nuances, and one of them was that there was no point in making verbal demands or threats you couldn’t physically enforce. At least not with Gin. So you tried your best to stay patient, focused, and disciplined whenever Gin was up to his usual mischief, though admittedly at times your competitive streak could get the best of you. But maybe that was why you didn’t mind being in Squad 3.

You knew he was teasing you. Testing you. Hell, even training you. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something annoying or borderline offensive or downright weird to train different senses and skills. Gin’s vested interest in his subordinates was something you admired about him, but it often manifested in aggravating ways. Stealing objects, giving riddles or puzzles, ordering mundane chores to be done, training sessions that were blindfolded or gagged or bound, making officers work a whole day without speaking, slowly adding rocks to anyone’s pack over the course of a day. No matter what the task or training was, your patience and self-control always received the biggest workout.

“Out of the way!” you called ahead, as the alarmed by-standers who had parted for the easily-recognizable Captain began to ooze back into the hallway, unaware of his pursuer. “Move!” You didn’t bother with apologies when you inevitably bumped into one or caused someone to drop something or gave them a minor heart attack when you surprised them. You could almost feel the alarm and curiosity and, in some cases, amusement pouring off of the others as you chased Gin, knowing they were either preparing for an attack or wondering what Gin had done this time. It wasn’t the first time you had chased your Captain around the Division, bargaining for paperwork that needed your signature or his or your well-deserved dessert you had been saving for lunch that he stole off your desk. This time, though, he was running much faster and even though you decided to say fuck it to his weird power dynamics, you were too out of breath to demand he slow down.

Around a corner. Across a hallway. Jumping from one roof to the next. Down a flight of stairs. At this speed an ambush would be likely, but all you could do was prepare yourself for whatever it was. An attack, a bucket of water falling from an archway, a catapult of pudding straight into your face. You just needed to stay alert, you thought to yourself even as your focus narrowed in on the back of Gin’s head. He rounded another corner and you prepared yourself for the turn, propelling yourself with enough force that your sandals left marks.

“Y/N?!”

“Watch it!”

“Look out!”

The warning came a second too late and you collided face-first into Gin’s back, face artistically centered with the sigil on his robe. You growled but did not give ground, opting instead to take advantage of your close proximity to try to trap or subdue him. He rewarded your efforts by humoring you for a few seconds, easily out-maneuvering your grabs and punches, keeping one arm high out of reach. Though you knew it was futile, you kept trying until Gin managed to drape one of the exaggerated sleeves of his haori over your eyes. Instinctively you jumped back, hands raised to defend yourself from any hidden attack. But there was none, just Gin wearing his usual shit-eating grin and, you realized with mounting embarrassment, a crowd of officers watching the two of you.

“Goddammit,” you muttered, placing your hands on your knees while you tried to control your breathing. He had led you right into one of the inter-divisionary training grounds. Already you could hear the confused murmurs and amused chuckles coming from the crowd. You glanced around, spying several familiar faces. A concerned Momo stood next to Shuuhei and Izuru, who were too busy trading whispers to pay attention to her even as she grabbed onto Izuru’s sleeve. Ikkaku, lacking his usual counterpart but plus Renji, was perched atop of a barrel wearing an expression nothing short of predatory mirth. There were others, some familiar and some not, but after a cursory glance you deemed that they were just as surprised to see you as you were to see them, and thus were not a part of Gin’s plan. Speaking of…you glared at your Captain, putting aside any feelings of affections to make room for irritation and justifiable rage. It wasn’t hard.

“My, my, what’s that face for?” The smile never changed. “Is there something wrong, Y/N?”

Your eyebrow twitched. “You stole my zanpakuto, _Captain_ , and you just made me chase you around the entire 3rd Division Barracks.”

“ _I_ did that? I don’t recall ever ordering you to do so.”

You knew he could see you reigning back your sarcastic remark and you could see the hint of approval in his eyes. Ignoring the bait, you said clearly, “Captain Ichimaru, please just give me my zanpakuto back.” Maybe he’d be pleased that you were polite and hand it over. Maybe he would get bored if you stayed neutral and go pick on someone else.

He barely glanced at the stolen sword in his hand. “This thing?” he asked, giving it a little wave. Your eyes darted to it before going back to his, unable to stop yourself from feeling worry when he treated it so casually, though you knew he’d never actually harm it. “You really want it back that much?”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you sure?”

Neutrality be damned. “For the love of—Lieutenant Kira!” you called, not taking your eyes off Gin. “Help a 3rd Seat out, and please guard our Captain’s back in case he tries to run.”

“There’s no need for that,” Gin offered helpfully. Izuru stopped in his tracks. You could hear the amusement in his tone, not that he ever really sounded serious. “We both know you would chase me until tomorrow morning, not that you would catch me. So how about we do something a little more straightforward?”

You tried to keep the disbelief and despair out of your face; he really wanted you to fight him for your sword. Not just a scuffle, but an actual, official match. Even if he leveled the playing field by not using his own zanpakuto, the chances of you beating him in a fight were even less than you catching him in a chase. _Especially_ after chasing him for as long as you had been. But why else would he have lead you to the training grounds? And you knew there was no giving up or giving in. You had learned pretty early on in your career that even if you didn’t succeed in a goal, Gin rewarded effort and perseverance. So you resigned yourself to the next twenty minutes of public embarrassment of you attempting to fight Gin and him toying with you better than a cat plays with a mouse. You rolled your shoulders, raised your hands fully, shifted your feet into a more ready fighting stance, and made yourself say, “Fine, I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Ah-ah, not so fast.” His grin never grew wider but somehow deepened. “I’m not talking about a fight; we both know you’d never win that either. So how about we play a little game instead?”

It was a trap. Every nerve in your body screamed it. The confused glances and murmurs from your fellow Shinigami only added to that instinctual reaction. You fought down the urge to panic or let your imagination get the better of you. Gin used people’s panic against them, you knew that. And you were fine admitting that you couldn’t catch him or physically subdue him; there was a reason he was a Captain, after all. So there was no reason to give him more of a sense of dominance than he already had. Gin also rewarded self-control.

That didn’t change the fact that he was planning something. But you were tired and had a mountain of paperwork back at your desk and you wanted your zanpakuto back. You briefly entertained the notion of just leaving (it might surprise him, which would be a small consolation) but discarded it immediately. You needed to carry your zanpakuto and Gin would never give it back if you didn’t fight for it. Hell, he might even report you to Head-Captain Yamamoto himself just to punish you for not playing along.

So instead, you asked, “What kind of game?” The suspicion in your voice was clear and Gin chuckled, pulling something out of his robe. It took you a second to recognize the colorful box, but when you did your eyes widened and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Ikkaku howled with laughter and you could feel the anticipation in the air rise as if lightning was about to strike. Which, given what you were staring at, you almost wish it would. Nothing could have prepared you for this. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked before you could stop yourself, but this time you didn’t care. Gin always thought it was funny when something slipped past your filters, and his chuckle confirmed that. “You want me to play Pocky with you?”

“Actually, I think _you_ want to play Pocky with _me_ ; if you’d like to get your zanpakuto back, that is.” Your heart leapt again and you reminded yourself to calm down; Gin did _not_ know about your crush on him and he did _not_ just call you out on it publically. Of course you wanted your sword back. Of course there was a clear, professional reason for this.

But still…It took you almost a minute of running down the familiar trails of _What is Gin Up To?_ , going over so many improbably possibilities because Gin was a magnificent, devious bastard when it came up with creative lessons plans. Your audience waited in virtual silence, the curiosity and anticipation hanging over you like a thunderhead. Gin waited patiently, expression never faltering as he let your thoughts run their course. He wouldn’t settle for a half-assed response. Finally, you said, “Alright, you got me. I’m stumped. What’s the purpose of this particular game?”

“Well, in Japan—“

“No, I mean, what are you trying to push me towards? You’ve given me so many weird, bizarre, nearly impossible tasks in order to get me to overcome a shortcoming or teach me something, but I don’t get this one.”

Gin regarded you for a moment before he simply said, “Bravery.”

Your eyebrow twitched. “You want to test my courage? Then why not just fight me?”

“I’m not talking about your bravery in battle. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that you’re a capable and determined warrior. What I’m talking about is a whole other category of willpower and steadfastness.”

You glanced briefly at Izuru, who offered a guilty bit lip and helpless blue eyes. You tried not to glance at Ikkaku, or Renji, who seemed to have caught Ikkaku’s mirth. Every person in the field had their eyes glued to the two of you, but specifically you, waiting for your answer. Your heart continued to beat fast. _It’s fine, it’s fine,_ you told yourself. _It’s just a game, it’s just a way to get my zanpakuto back. It will be weird and then it will be over and I can go back to the office. It’s fine. It’s just a very_ public _game of Pocky. Nothing to worry about._ You very determinedly ignored that kissing Gin was an all too likely outcome for this scenario. “Okay, fine,” you said, trying to weave a blasé mask to hide your nervousness, even if it was just to save some face. “I still don’t entirely get it, but if it will get me my sword back then I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Gin sat on the ground and motioned for you to come over and do the same, placing your sword a bit behind him to his right. He pulled out a pocky stick and waved at you with it. “Any questions before we start?”

Several sprang into your head, chief among them being, _Why the hell are playing Pocky? Why do we have an audience? Can’t we do this somewhere else?_ But you knew the answers already. He was trying to back you into a mental, emotional, and social corner and one of the most effective ways to do that was to have other people as witnesses. You both knew you’d be behaving differently if it had been just the two of you, and that if you had been alone you could simply pretend it never happened. Now, you had to maneuver not only his game but the reactions of those around you. Mentally, you shook your head and told yourself to focus. “I do, actually. So, given that we have a goal other than the…typical one for this game—“ You heard someone snort in the background. Probably Ikkaku. “—is there a different criteria for winning or losing?”

“It’s simple, really. The first one to freeze or give ground loses. If neither of us does and we meet in the middle, we’ll consider it a win for you.”

You were almost going to say that sounded suspiciously easily, but then decided not to give him any ideas. Instead, you scooted a bit closer and eyed the pocky stick held carefully between his fingers. _Just meet in the middle. Just eat some candy and don’t stop eating until it’s gone. It’s simple. I can do this._

But it bothered you how easy it was. Gin was clearly making efforts to put you in an uncomfortable position and the realization struck you that even if you met in the middle, it would hardly be a victory. It was more of a mercy, or a draw. You wouldn’t have really learned or obtained anything, you would have simply endured the humiliation until Gin benevolently decided it was enough and let you go. That was no victory. It was pity.

That, along with the frustration at Gin for putting you in these undignified and obnoxious situations, turned some of your nervousness into vengeance. You didn’t want to just get by. With that sudden understanding, you found yourself wanting to beat Gin at his own game. Turn the tables for once and surprise him, put him on the defensive. Show him you weren’t going to play only by his rules, letting him be the sole chess master.

The only problem was how? Gin called over Izuru and Shuuhei to be judges, one on either side, and they were to call if one of you froze for more than three seconds or withdrew. The two Lieutenants, looking as nervous as you, had to kneel close by to accurately judge. Everyone else moved closer as well, making a wall of black cloaks, and you felt your neck and ears heating up despite your efforts to appear calm. It wasn’t as though you had a perfectly polished reputation to uphold, and anyone who was under Gin’s jurisdiction dealt with uncomfortable situations at least several times a month. It was like a routine maintenance check to make sure you humility was still functioning. But you could feel the prickling on your neck from everybody staring at the two of you and you had to admit this was a bit unusual even for Gin. You still refused to acknowledge the thought knocking at the back of brain trying to remind you the two of you would very likely end up kissing.

You took a deep breath and tried to focus on how to beat Gin. But between the awkwardness of the situation and the nervousness at being so close to him (you prayed he couldn’t smell the sweat generated by your previous chase), it was hard to concentrate. You scooted a bit closer and put your teeth on the end of the pocky stick he offered, knowing your whole face was on fire by this point. You tried to hold the candy in your mouth casually, not showing too much teeth or lip or god forbid any drool. Gin’s grin grew closer and he bit down on the other end, waiting for Izuru and Shuuhei’s signal to start. At the least the bastard had the decency to offer you the frosting-covered end, you thought.

“Alright, begin,” Shuuhei said, his normally even voice a bit strained. You couldn’t spend the time to think about what was going through his head (not that you particularly wanted to). The game had started and you didn’t have a plan. In an attempt to buy time, you slowly moved up the pocky stick, trying to shove the thoughts of where to look and how to move your mouth out of your mind while you came up with some ideas. _Anxiety isn’t going to win this for you_ , you scolded yourself. Gin was absolutely right when he said this was another category of bravery. _You’ve faced off Hollows. You’ve survived a drink-off with Rangiku. You’re a 3 rd Seat. Get your shit together._

You could hear some murmurs from your audience, but mostly you heard the sound of your own heart and felt your face flushing the closer Gin got. Your eyes flickered and met his for a moment. You had come up with an idea that _could_ work, but it was risky and required decisiveness and spontaneity, both of which you felt desperately low on at the moment. The timing of it so your plan would both go smoothly and have the intended impact was going to be the hardest part, you thought. Well, that and the potential for a gag reflex.

You took a breath through your nose and met Gin’s gaze again. “So, Y/N, are you uncomfortable yet?” Gin asked around the pocky stick, clearly enjoying himself. His words triggered something in you and you saw that he had unknowingly given you the perfect opening.

You held his gaze and smirked. His confusion was evident on his face when you confidently said, “No.” Without wasting a second, you scooted forward, bracing yourself on your right hand and sliding your mouth up the pocky stick, successfully breaking it with your tongue before you gagged and stopped only when your face was millimeters away from Gin’s. “Are you?” you asked, nervousness now replaced by adrenaline. You could hear a few startled comments from the spectators but you held Gin’s eyes, staring him down. You leaned forward a little bit more, left hand reaching, and to your roaring triumph he retreated enough so that you could claim enemy territory with a victorious crunch, followed by Shuuhei and Izuru’s enthusiastic declaration. It hadn’t even occurred to you that anybody was rooting for you, but cheers erupted from the crowd. You withdrew and made a show of wiping some crumbs off your mouth with your left hand, your zanpakuto held firmly in it.

“Thanks for the candy,” you taunted sweetly, part of your brain acknowledging you were in a bit of an adrenaline high and the rest of it not caring too much. You were too wrapped up in the expression on Gin’s face, the faltering of his grin and the small, almost pouty frown that replaced it. For all intents and purposes, you may have well swapped mouths; you could feel your lips tugging into a proud, wolfish grin. “I guess the old saying is right; victory _is_ sweet.”

Izuru coughed to cover his chuckle and Momo looked downright mortified that you’d address your Captain so flippantly. Some seemed to share Momo’s apprehension (someone you didn’t recognize pointed and shouted an exaggerated, “ _Ohhh!_ ”), but most everyone else was laughing, either at the pun or the unexpected turn of their game. The tension had broken and now instead of a crushing pressure, you felt the atmosphere of the crowd had risen into a new excitement. It mirrored your own feelings; though triumphant, you could still feel your heart hammering inside your ribs and your knees shaking as you rose to your feet.

Gin, however, looked about the same as he always did once he had recovered. Like you, he was ignoring the crowd, opting instead to focus his attention solely on you. His face split back into his usual grin and he complimented, “Clearly, I underestimated you.”

“Damn straight you did.” You couldn’t help but continue to smile, elated that he was proud of you. Gin rewarded bravery and perseverance, but he demanded intelligence and strategy. You were pleased that you had effectively fulfilled every value. The glimmer of respect and pride in his eyes when you won one of his games or made new progress with your own goals was something you had come to cherish. It warmed you down to your core and you felt your lips tugging into a smile whenever you thought about it. You had other victories with his unusual training methods in the past, but you were sure this one was one of your greatest. The cheers and exclamations from the other Shinigami filled your ears and you saluted, slinging your zanpakuto over your shoulder and striding back towards your office. You were a bit smug, and you knew it, but part of you thought you deserved it. Even as you left him sitting in the dust, you didn’t think you had ever seen him looking more pleased at you.

* * *

_End Notes: I cannot believe I have at least 5 parts planned out for this. And if I felt bad for Shuuhei in the last chapter I definitely feel bad for Reader in this one._


	3. Shuuhei/Reader/Izuru (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I owe pumpkinhead1313 from tumblr for this one. They had a post a while back about what it would be like for Shuuhei and Izuru to share a girlfriend and I really wanted to flesh out some of the ideas they put down. I will be upfront and apologize in advance if Izuru’s character is a bit off; I’ve tried re-watching a lot of episodes with him in it and can’t get my head around him quite as much as some of the others. Either way, enjoy your threesome!

You moaned and bit your bottom lip, tugging your boyfriend’s hair impatiently. You could practically feel Izuru’s grin against your thighs as he ignored your signals, instead opting to suck on your clit in a way that made you squirm. You glanced down and met his gaze for a moment before you had to turn your head away. Watching him watch you while he persistently and carefully went down on you, blue eyes intent and longing, was nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. You could already feel yourself approaching that edge, and between his tongue and lips pleasuring your clit and core, his warm hands roaming your hips and thighs, and his soft blonde hair lightly tickling the inside of your legs, you knew you wouldn’t hold out much longer.

“Izuru,” you half-warned, half-whined, and this time he complied. You hardly had time to mourn the loss of stimulation. He trailed kisses up your abdomen, across your chest, until he was close enough that you could pull him into a kiss, burying one hand into his hair while the other slipped underneath his arm and around his back, pulling him closer to you. He leaned on one elbow while running his opposite hand appreciatively up your body, stopping long enough to play with your breast and nipple. You lightly scratched down his back, not enough to mark, and his shuddering groan made your insides tighten with want. He seemed to feel it too, because his hand retracted to line himself up with your entrance while you deepened your kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth while he slipped into you with a few strokes.

“Oh god, Izuru,” you breathed, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure rippled through you. He gasped and murmured your name, and then again as he settled into a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you with a barely-restrained pace. You captured him for another kiss, sloppier this time, and you heard twin moans. You couldn’t help but grin, and as Izuru broke away to kiss along your cheek and jaw, you turned your head so you could see your other boyfriend. Shuuhei sat, naked and clearly turned on, on the other side of your king bed, hands handcuffed behind him to the bedpost. His eyes were glued to the two of you, a blush rapidly spreading across his face when he saw you watching him. Embarrassed, but not enough to look away or ever deny how hard it made him to watch you and Izuru be intimate with one another. Maybe the embarrassment was part of it, you had thought on several occasions. This particular kink had caught all of you by surprise and it had taken a lot of convincing to get Shuuhei to initially admit it and then indulge in it. What had started off as an unexpected fuck with Izuru in the kitchen during one of your mutual days off had ended in extreme mutual embarrassment when the two of you realized Shuuhei had walked in halfway through and when Shuuhei realized his hard-on was as noticeable as his nosebleed. He had run out the door and refused to talk about it afterwards to either of you. It had taken some minor bullying to make any progress. Izuru had been a bit reluctant to push Shuuhei’s comfort zones but couldn’t deny it was sometimes a heady feeling to have you grab him by the collar and make out with him in front of his friend, and each subsequent nosebleed and hurried, “Excuse me,” as Shuuhei vacated the room, half of his blood rushing to his face and the other half to his dick, only made you more determined to explore this new kink. It was weeks later when Shuuhei finally admitted it turned him on. It was hours later when he for some reason felt the need to assure the two of you the thought had never crossed his mind until the kitchen incident.

Until you had started dating the two of them, you wouldn’t have guessed either of them had many unusual kinks or tastes. They both seemed so serious and straight-edged. But then again, you wouldn’t have necessarily thought of yourself as an exhibitionist, but maybe that came with the territory of having two boyfriends. You couldn’t deny that seeing how desperately hot and bothered Shuuhei was watching the two of you got you turned on as well. And Izuru, not quite as kinky but quietly curious and always wanting to see the two of you happy, was willing to go along with experimentation.

He found your sweet spot and ground against your clit at the same time. Your moan turned halfway into a yelp as he did it again and then again, eyes half-closing as you began to lose yourself in the feeling. Off to your side, Shuuhei involuntarily jerked against his restraints, cock twitching and unnoticed by the two of you. His strangled groan and gasp did reach your ears, but you were preoccupied with occupying Izuru’s mouth again. He gladly went along, kissing you gently yet passionately as he found one of your hands with his and laced with fingers through yours. You gave his hand a squeeze and wrapped your legs around his hips, guiding him deeper into you.

“Oh god, Izuru, that feels so good,” you said when the two of you broke for air. He grinned down at you, bright blue eyes full of care and clouded with want. He gave a short thrust and his grin grew when you arched your back in bliss. “Please, just like that.”

“Just like what?” he asked playfully, slowing his pace. He chuckled a bit at your frustrated noise and impatient tug on his hair, but gave in, resuming his former stride with a heightened sense of urgency. If you hadn’t been certain of how close he was to climax, you knew now. Both of your breaths began to come in pants and he moaned your name again, shuddering when you ran your nails up his back. You thrust your hips in time with his, feeling the familiar feeling of your own impending orgasm. A tingling pressure was building up inside you and you craved more, wanting it to consume you. Each thrust of your hips, each grind against your clit, built up until you felt like you would overflow. Your grip on his hand and shoulder tightened as you came, crying out his name and feeling yourself tighten around his member in pulses. Izuru followed you, unable to hold out much longer once you began to constrict around him. This time you didn’t even hear Shuuhei’s own pants.

Izuru continued for a few more thrusts, helping you both ride out your orgasms, before slackening and resting his forehead on yours. You unhooked your legs from his waist and encouraged him to rest more of his weight on you. The warmth of Izuru’s body was comforting, and you kissed his forehead after brushing away some stray, sweat-slicked hairs. He met your eyes and smiled; gentle, tender, loving. The hand that had been holding yours left to caress your face and cheek. Then he kissed your forehead and your nose, making you giggle softly. You caught his hand and held it as you kissed him again, trying to convey as much emotion as you could with that single action. He squeezed your fingertips and slipped out of you, re-arranging himself so he lay right at your side.

“You know,” he said, “as much as I love post-sex cuddling, I think there’s someone else who needs some attention.” You shared his grin and as a unit you both glanced at Shuuhei, who was now trying to look anywhere else.

“You think so?” you asked, sitting up to stretch. You laced your fingers together and raised your arms above your head, not missing the two sets of eyes watching your every move. Izuru sighed, admiring, and Shuuhei bit back another groan, sweating. “I dunno, ‘zuru. I was wondering if we should maybe just leave him there this time.”

Izuru actually laughed when Shuuhei asked if you were joking. “Stop teasing him, Y/N,” he scolded gently.

“I will in a minute,” you said over your shoulder, already making your way over to your other boyfriend. Shuuhei was fixed on you as you approached, gazing at you with so much desire and desperation it made your insides coil with renewed heat. You were aware of Izuru watching you from behind; you were fairly certain he didn’t get off on this like Shuuhei did, but he never left or averted his gaze either. That also gave you another rush of giddiness mixed with lust, and you could already tell how wet you were as you teased, “You can hold out that much longer, right Shu?” You crawled onto his lap, reveling in the feel of his hard length against you and his taut, muscular legs flexing beneath your own.

“Y/N…” was all he got out before you took mercy and pressed yourself against him, kissing him deeply. He returned the kiss with earnest, straining against the handcuffs in an attempt to gain leverage. You felt his member twitch against you and you couldn’t help but want to tease a little farther. You trailed one hand through his hair, around his neck and joined the other in a twin path down his chest. He moaned against your mouth when you pinched his nipples. The muscles of his chest and abdomen tightened and bunched as your hands went lower, and you pulled away the closer you got, dragging his lip between your teeth when your hands were halfway down his stomach. He leaned his head back against the headpost and watched you with a heated gaze. Maybe he thought you’d hold out on him, because his expression was one of surprise when you grasped his dick before melting into unadulterated ecstasy. He couldn’t keep still under you and you had to admit you got a thrill seeing the normally composed and cool Lieutenant turning into a hot, moaning mess beneath you. He panted as you worked your hands up and down his shaft, unable to form a coherent sentence. You leaned forward and kissed his neck, sucking and licking and occasionally nipping as you worked up to his ear. He gasped when you grazed your teeth over his earlobe and you felt some pre-cum dotting the tip of his member. “Y/N,” he said again, trying his best not to whine.

It wasn’t the word all three of you had agreed upon earlier, so you followed the path your hands had made with your mouth, stopping to pay attention to both nipples before trailing kisses down until your cheek rubbed against his member. He made a sound low in his throat as you peppered the tip with kisses and one of your hands left to explore his legs. He was all taut muscles now, unable to keep still and only tearing his gaze away from you to close his eyes in a mixture of pained suspension and spikes of pleasure. You licked your lips and then took him into your mouth, drinking in the noises coming from him. It wasn’t long before you tasted more pre-cum, and you flicked your tongue over the tip, lapping it up and wishing you could see his face when he gasped.

He was so fixated on your mouth over him that he didn’t even notice your other hand until it lightly cupped and massaged his balls. His surprised cry surprised you, followed almost immediately by a slightly panicked, “Kiwi! Kiwi!”

You pulled back immediately, peering at his face intently for signs of discomfort further than that code, but he nodded once he noted your concern. “Sorry, Shu,” you said, half-embarrassed and half-guilty. Izuru had been the one to suggest coming up with layered codes and you were always grateful he did. Instead of a full yes or stop code, the three of you had brainstormed on different tiers of discomfort. _Full stop. I need a break. I want out of the handcuffs._ The latter was typically what he ended up saying, like now. You kissed him lightly, hoping to soothe some of the discomfort while you reached around for the key to the handcuffs, fumbling to unlock them from in front of him. He didn’t even bother comforting his slightly abused limbs; the second the cuffs were removed he pulled you as close as physically possible, nearly suffocating you with the tight hold and his hot, consuming kisses. You kissed back just as forcefully, shivering as his hands roamed your back, buried into your hair, grabbed your butt. You ground yourself against the length of him and then lowered yourself back down carefully, both of you savoring the feeling of him entering you. Once he had reached his hilt, Shuuhei shifted under you so he was on his knees and caressed your legs while you began to ride him. He leaned back slightly, giving you a more stable platform, and his heated gaze swept over you. He grinned when he saw you doing the same. His arms snaked around you and lifted you up, giving him the room to thrust swiftly and deeply into you. It was only moments before you were actively restraining your cries, legs twitching to find some kind of purchase as he dragged past your sweet spots with precision and force. You clamped your legs around his waist, probably holding on hard enough to bruise. Shuuhei panted and groaned, losing himself in your trembling legs and tight heat. Almost as suddenly as he had started, he pulled out and lowered you back onto the bed, giving you a push on your hips and a brief, “Turn over,” so you were on your stomach, him looming behind.

Face partially hidden by the blankets, you grinned. Shuuhei wasted no time in aiding your legs apart so he could slide into you again; he would admire your body as he went. He situated himself even as he thrusted; one hand reached up to hold one of yours, he shifted himself to lean over you, breath ghosting across your back and giving you goosebumps, and his other hand reached around your front to play with whatever he could.

A moan escaped you when he found your clit, already sensitive from Izuru’s treatment, and began to rub circles on it. “You like that?” he asked, returning your favor from earlier and nibbling on your earlobe. You arched your neck and back in reply, giving him more access to sensitive spots and grinding your ass against him. “Ahh, fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking hot,” he said breathlessly, not slowing in his thrusts or play with your clit. You tried to hide your grin, still amazed at how a simple change of positions could change Shuuhei from a hot mess to a cocky, dominating force. The feel of him gliding so effortlessly in and out of you was exhilarating, and the press and constant rippling of his body and muscles above you nearly made you melt.

You wanted to glance at Izuru, but he was in the other direction and it’d be hard to turn your head with Shuuhei as close as he was. Instead you somehow managed to flex your arm so you caught Shuuhei’s hair and tugged him closer. He complied, kissing you heatedly and squeezing your hand. You knew he was getting close, but after your bout with Izuru, you were too. The tingling from your core was slowly spreading, down your legs and up your sides, and at the rate Shuuhei was going, you’d be seeing stars in a minute. You flexed, trying to hold out for a little longer while having the added bonus of making Shuuhei choke back a cry. He could feel every move you made, one of the reasons he liked this position so much, and the sensation of your back, shoulders, hips, ass, and legs undulating against his body was almost too much for him to bear.

“Shuuhei, look at me.” He did, holding your gaze with a mixture of reverence and aching for release, and within moments you both came; you spasming around him and quivering and him stiffening and thrusting deep into you. You kissed him roughly, biting his lip while you both climaxed, releasing him only after you realized you both had stilled. With noticeable effort, Shuuhei shifted so you both lay on your sides, him spooning you and still inside you. You turned, half on your back, and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, tired but satisfied. “It was a little intense, but good. I’m good.”

“Yeah you are.” He nuzzled his nose against your hair and you scooted up to kiss him. It was gentler this time and he reciprocated, smiling a bit goofily when you two parted. It made your grin even bigger.

The bed shifted and you two looked up to see Izuru sliding off. You both watched as he went to your closet and came back with towels for each of you. You smiled and thanked him, Shuuhei accepting a bit less gracefully. He slid out of you and rolled onto his back with a tired growl, cleaning himself off before either one of you made any more of a mess on your bed.  “Scoot, Shuu,” you said, tugging the abused and dirty comforter for emphasis. He craned his head to look at you, a smirk on his face and eyebrow raised while he lay still. You tried to pout, but the effect was ruined by the grin that refused to leave your face, as it often did around him. You just tugged again and he lifted himself an inch, allowing it to be kicked to the floor. Izuru had already slipped under the sheets and helped drag you the rest of the way up your bed, kissing you on the cheek while you giggled and then on the lips when you met halfway.

“I really am one of the luckiest girls in the Seireitei,” you commented as you snuggled against Izuru, waiting for Shuuhei to come join you.

“The feeling’s mutual. There are still times I can’t believe you agreed to date the two of us.”

“You mean suggested it,” Izuru corrected, idly tracing patterns on your shoulder with his thumb. “You and I were both resigned to be rejected and see the other one dating Y/N. She’s the one who had the idea that we share.”

“No way, that was my idea.”

“No, you’re the one who asked if we could have a threesome immediately after that,” you laughed, and Shuuhei turned red and muttered something about crazy ideas and spending too much time with Lisa. You nudged his head with your foot and he glanced up. You rolled your eyes and motioned towards the head of the bed and he joined you, crawling to your other side and pressing himself up against your back. You pretended not to see the look traded between him and Izuru, the kind of bond you knew you wouldn’t be able to fully understand but were grateful they shared. Being best friends, Lieutenants of different squads, and sharing a girlfriend was a dynamic all three of you had worried about at first, but after trial and error and a lot of cuddling and late-night, emotional talks, you had all hit your stride as individuals, duos, and a trio.

Feeling impulsively tender, you kissed both of them on the cheek and said, “No particular reason,” when they both blushed and asked why. Drowsiness had already set in and it wasn’t long before you were all asleep, feeling more content and at peace than any of you could remember feeling for a while.

At least until the next morning, when you had awoken on the other side of the bed, a still-sleeping but soon-to-be flustered Shuuhei and Izuru spooning intensely, and all three of your captains banging on your door for sleeping past your alarms.


	4. Aizen/Reader (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader holds the 11th Seat of Squad 5, an act to be discarded when Aizen finally makes his move. Reader is "punished" for sloppy workmanship and, more importantly, being sassy. Takes place before the anime. Warning; if you're NOT into mild/moderate humiliation, being dominated, semi-public sex/humiliation, or unhealthy relationships, this isn't the chapter for you. It's Aizen and he's abusive. At his best I'd only be able to write him as convincingly charming, and he's not at his best.

The clash of steel rang throughout the courtyard. You watched your Lieutenant, Momo Hinamori, and the 3rd Seat of Squad 5 duel. If you could call it that, you thought as you easily picked apart their strategies and weaknesses. You watched more out of obligation than anything else, having already analyzed most of your squad’s techniques and behaviors in combat. Not that you could let them know that. As 11th Seat, you were supposed to be far behind in terms of skill.

You had appearances to keep up. The charade was chaffing, but you knew the results would be worth it. You were looking forward to the day you could cast off the title of 11th Seat and let your true power shine, express your true feelings, and get out of the glorified cage called the Seireitei. The desolate freedom of Hueco Mundo was more appealing.

You wanted to explore the boundaries of existence and understand the Hollows better than they were understood now. Maybe that could end the meaningless bloodshed and better the understanding of the world. It wasn’t as though you detested anything in particular about the Seireitei, other than its forced obedience and narrow-sighted goals. You just believed in Lord Aizen’s and Captain Tosen’s philosophy more. And if two thirds of your team were people you admired and believed in, you figured that was a good balance. Who knew what Captain Ichimaru was ever thinking, but if nothing else, you could put up with him.

The sound of your Captain’s voice interrupted your musings. He called for the duel to come to a close and then began his lesson, asking Momo and the 3rd Seat what they had observed, how they had felt, what they had improved on and what needed improvement. He added his own insights, pointing out their weaknesses in a gentle, encouraging manner while praising their growth and performance. He patted Momo’s head, resulting in a fierce blush from the younger girl. You sighed, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned your elbow into the crook of your knee. The poor girl was as helpless as they came.

You and the other officers were made to listen to Aizen’s lecture, the intention being that you would all learn from the performance. You made yourself appear as if you were listening, but your thoughts began to roam, mostly in the direction of Aizen himself. You let yourself be lulled by his voice, soft and melodic, and you studied his face instead of the sword he was demonstrating a parry and counter attack with. It was soft, framed by curly brown hair, accented with round glasses, and adorned with an easy and humble smile. It was a presentation, you knew, and a damn good-looking one. In the privacy of a secure space, alone or with Captains Tosen and Ichimaru, his face lost the gentle curves and became stronger, more angles and sharp lines. The transition between his mask and true self never ceased to intrigue you. Maybe it was what had drawn you to him in the first place.

“Isn’t that right, Officer L/N?” You blinked, then agreed. He sighed and shook his head, feigning disappointment as he scolded you for not paying closer attention, and then repeated the last part of his lesson. Once you paid attention it was clear that you had been wrong, but you shrugged it off.

“Geez, this is why you’ve been stuck as 11th Seat for so long,” said the 8th Seat, someone who had been in the squad since you joined. You shrugged. Aizen knew you were smarter than that, and that’s what really mattered. You were fine playing dumb, or allowing yourself to be caught daydreaming, if it meant keeping up appearances.

It was towards the end of the day when Aizen called you into his office. Some officers exchanged knowing looks, assuming you were going to be lectured some more for spacing out earlier. Momo gave you an encouraging smile as you walked past, which you returned with a convincing but fake one of your own.

“Come in, Officer L/N,” he said when you knocked on his door. You entered and shut it behind you, then turned to look at your Captain. The light was shining off his glasses, making it difficult to read his expression. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, easing into the comfortable chair. If there was one thing to be said about Aizen, it was that he never shirked on luxuries and comforts. “What can I do for you?”

He leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbows on his desk and locked his fingers under his chin. “We need to talk about your performance lately. You’ve been getting distracted.”

“Oh. Sorry sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Really?” You nodded. “How can I be sure if there’s no consequence for poor behavior?” he asked. “Though I’m not a strict man, I do believe in reinforcing good behavior and dealing appropriate consequences for undesirable behavior. If I let you go without anything other than a warning, how will I know if you’ve learned anything?”

You almost wanted to laugh. Half of the statements he just made were completely false, but you knew better than to point that out. Instead you shrugged and said coyly, “Do you not believe in first or second strikes? Or does my word not mean anything to you?”

He raised an eyebrow and you fought back a grin, knowing it might lead to disaster. Unlike Gin, who thrived off of chaos, and Tosen, who strictly sought order, Aizen was a precarious balance of the two. While he demanded obedience and loyalty, he despised shallow thinking and conformity. Speaking your mind or teasing him was always a gamble; would he reward your individuality or would he consider it an offensive show of disrespect? It was a gamble you played carefully, but still toyed with nonetheless.

The two of you appraised each other for several long, silent moments before he leaned back in his chair and said, “You may go, L/N. I expect you to pay more attention in the future.”

“Thank you, Captain Aizen,” you said, bowing your head before standing up and leaving. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, even after you had shut the door. Momo looked up and asked you how it went. “Captain Aizen is generous and fair,” you said, knowing he would hear you if he was listening. He always was. “He told me he was disappointed and I promised to do better.”

Momo smiled and agreed with you, Captain Aizen was a wonderful Captain who cared deeply about his subordinates. You kept your smile plastered to your face, feeling sorry for the girl as she went on. Her dedication to her Captain was admirable, but was almost painful to watch and was a wasted effort. Still, you couldn’t help but want to be in her shoes just for a moment, to have Aizen pat you on the head with the affection smile he wore just for Momo. You chided yourself, telling you genuine respect was better than false adoration. That didn’t stop you from involuntarily frowning whenever you saw one of those displays of affection, though.

 

* * *

 

For the next few days, order carried on. Aizen didn’t go out of his way to talk to you and you, as 11th Seat, had no reason to approach him. There were no secret meetings with the other Captains, at least none that you knew about, and Aizen’s demeanor was normal to the eyes of his subordinates. You didn’t notice that you had forgotten about the events a few days ago. You continued on with your act, more bored at acting like the paperwork was difficult than you were in actually doing it. Your palms itched to explore new horizons.

When afternoon came around, you took your dedicated hour for training. It had been a surprise to learn that some other squads didn’t have time for training worked into their daily schedules; you weren’t sure how anyone was supposed to keep up with it on their own otherwise. At the training field, you saw other seated officers and Momo. You waved to them and then began warming up, going through the actions deliberately to make it seem like more effort than it was. You put the same attention to your sword forms, wishing you could just perform them naturally. Trying to mimic confusion, uneven pacing, and shaking limbs was more difficult than the form itself.

You were over halfway through the hour when you felt his presence behind you. You turned, simply greeting, “Captain Aizen, what brings you to—“ before you were cut off by a hand on your waist. His second hand followed and twisted you back around, so your back was to him and he could push himself flush against you. You stiffened, eyes darting around the courtyard. No one was given either of you a second glance. “Captain Aizen, what are you—“

“Your form is getting sloppy,” he murmured into your ear. You shuddered and his hands began to roam, one up towards your chest and the other working on the knot in your sash. You couldn’t tell if he meant your intentional sloppiness or if you were slipping in your charade. A hand dipped between the folds of your uniform and fondled your breast. You bit your teeth and glanced around again. How was no one—

Kyoka Suigetsu. Obviously. You could feel yourself relax once you made this realization, then groaned when Aizen ran your nipple between his thumb and index finger. The instinctual panic began transforming into lust as the reality of the situation became clear to you. You stayed still, knowing better than to move unless he told you to, and waited in buzzing anticipation as he took apart the last strands of the knot of your sash. Your wait was uncharacteristically short; the second your robe slackened his hand dove between your legs and began to rub you through your underwear. You groaned again, softly, then turned your head and asked, “Dare I ask what brought this on?”

Aizen had smirked at your groan, feeling you getting wetter through your underwear. “I told you that there needed to be consequences for your actions,” he said, voice low and breath tickling your neck. A finger ran over your slit before slipping inside you and you gasped.

“Isn’t this the opposite of a negative consequence?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. He liked seeing you struggle for your control. “I’m beginning to think I need to misbehave more often.”

You felt him growing harder against your backside. “Take this lesson as you will,” he said. “But be advised, this illusion I’ve covered us in only deludes sight. As far as anyone is concerned, you are still practicing your form and will appear normal if anyone approaches you, but any sound you make is still audible.”

You froze and bit your lip, choking back a cry of pleasure at the last second as he assaulted your clit, nipple, and nibbled on your earlobe at the same time. He felt you tighten around him and chuckled. “Of course, I am completely indiscernible. So you’d better watch yourself.” You nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he added another finger, playing with you so expertly that he could have you cumming in minutes, if he wanted to. But naturally, he didn’t. You stood rock-still, holding your breath and biting back cries and moans as he mercilessly played with you. It wasn’t easy.

He lazily played with your breasts while rapidly thrusting his fingers in and out of you, dragging them against sensitive spots with enough speed and precision to make you see spots. “That didn’t take much effort, did it?” Aizen asked, lips right above your ear. “Tell me, are you always this quick to arouse or is this just for me?”

“It’s you,” you whispered, fighting back another gasp when he thrummed his thumb against your clit.

He chuckled, hot breath caressing your ear. “You’re not lying to get into my good graces, are you Y/N?” he asked, already withdrawing his fingers from your entrance. You shook your head, not sure how loud you had to be for the other Shinigami in the courtyard to hear you. You weren’t lying. You’d had sex with others before meeting Aizen, but the way he made your heart pound and your knees weak was unparalleled.

You winced when he ground into your backside, a reminder of what you were currently missing while he traced idle patterns along your abdomen and the front of your hips, never quite reaching where you wanted him to.

You tilted your head back as he pushed his hips against yours again and he leaned down, licking your neck just below your jaw, over a vein. You inhaled sharply, doubling your breath when he bit down harshly, definitely enough to bruise and possibly enough to draw blood. The sensual kiss he placed over the ravaged flesh made you shiver, and then he did it again and again, working all the way down your neck. He pinched a nipple on one of his bites and you bit back a yelp, enough to bruise your own lip. It was painful, but the dichotomy of harsh treatment and heated, passionate attention right afterwards made your head spin.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, noting the way goosebumps erupted over marked skin. You nodded. “But you’re not quite as urgent as before. Tell me, what do you want?” He traced your entrance through your underwear and you whined a bit, a bit embarrassed at the sound but knowing it was what he wanted. “What was that?”

“Please,” you whispered, eyes glancing around to make sure no other officers had strayed closer. You could feel Aizen smirk against your ear and he brought the hand he had first teased you with up to your lips, a clear signal. You opened your mouth and licked his fingers, running your tongue between them and sucking firmly. He groaned and pushed his erection against you again, sending an ache through your legs and the space between them. The idea of fucking in front of your peers, veiled by Kyoka Suigetsu had been a major turn-on at first, but the limited ability to reciprocate and the teasing was getting unbearable. You thought back to his heavy, silk sheets in a room blocked off by kido so you could moan and cry out to your hearts content.

But you didn’t even want to risk asking him if you could turn around, reciprocate, move your hands, or kiss him. He was obviously leaving your mouth free so you’d have to muffle your own cries, and you knew he wouldn’t give you the mercy to cover your mouth with your hands. So you stood still, knees shaking, holding back noises as he teased every sensitive spot he knew you had, all while he moaned at your wetness or the hardness of your nipples, murmuring in your ear how admirable your self-control was and how long do you think you’ll last? He had retracted his hand from your mouth and slid his fingers back inside you, stroking you from the inside while his thumb traced erratic patterns on your clit. You began to lose track of his particular actions; just as he’d build you up with swift, precise motions he’d slow, or alleviate the pressure until his thumb was just barely grazing your skin. Three times you ground down on his hand and on the last one he didn’t pull away, instead returning the favor and smirking when you clenched around him.

It was becoming clear he wasn’t going to let you finish. It would be remarkably in-character of him to do just that, to leave after your hour of training was up and order you to wait to cum until he was in the mood to be compassionate. Then you wondered if he’d punish you further for getting “distracted” during your training. But how were you supposed to defy him in a situation like this? He rewarded intelligence and individualism, sure, but it was hard to tell what counted as an assertion he secretly wanted you to make and what was disobedience.

You squirmed in frustration and he moved to abuse the other side of your neck, leaving your left side raw and burning in the open air. You groaned as his frustratingly well-timed bites and curls of his fingers, nearly melting when he’d press hot, heavy kisses to your sensitive skin. You could feel the sweat from your neck against his lips and could feel it between your breasts, only adding more fuel to the fire when he’d run a hand from one to the other.

Your breaths were coming in pants and you hoped he was making your illusion doing something that looked strenuous. The hand that had been playing with your breasts retracted, and you felt him fumbling with something behind you. His hand grazed your covered ass a few times, then he gripped you by the shoulders and spun you around, pushing down at the same time. You tried to fall to your knees quietly, but the pain from the shock faded as you came face to face with his member. You glanced up and him and saw him smirking from above you. The two of you held eye contact while you caught your breath and tried to calm your frenzied nerves. You both knew this game. Carefully, once you had recovered your breath slightly, you brought your lips to the tip of it and licked, watching his expression for any change. You went slowly but steadily, bringing a hand up to steady his shaft while you took your time taking him into your mouth, making sure you left no inch unattended. One of his hands went into your hair, giving you encouraging shoves or rubs. You worked steadily, used to this routine, and knowing he enjoyed himself when you took your time but didn’t tease. Your grip at the base of his shaft tightened and moved in time with your mouth, and you broke eye contact to close your eyes and better imagine this hard, long member inside of you. As an experiment, you brought your free hand to your thighs and then up to your clit, rubbing in small circles. Just as the pleasure set in, the hand in your hair gripped painfully and you got the message. You brought your free hand up and let it join the first, occasionally moving to play with his balls or grip his hip for further stability.

He groaned above you, and the sound made you clench. You wished you were in the privacy of his room, kidos blocking all sounds so you could moan and cry out as well. Maybe once this was over, he’d invite you over tonight. Your clit still tingled and ached from the abuse he gave it, so you shifted, trying to get more comfortable. By now soft pants and groans were falling easily from Aizen’s lips and you tried doubling your efforts, hoping a good orgasm would appease him.

“Excuse me, Y/N?”

Your eyes snapped open and you leaned back, hands frozen on Aizen’s dick. Momo stood above you, looking at what was probably eye level with the illusion of you. You told your stuttering brain to think, to say something back, when Aizen’s amused voice from overhead commanded, “Keep going.”

“Um, yes, Lieutenant Hinamori?” you asked, slowly re-staring your hands on their former path. Aizen twitched in your palms and he growled, so you gave the tip of his dick a few licks, hoping that would be good enough. The push against your cheek told you it wasn’t.

“I noticed that you’ve been here for over an hour. It’s admirable that you’re so dedicated to your training, but you need permission from myself or Captain Aizen to have extra time during the work day.”

You removed your mouth from around Aizen and kept stroking with your hands. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant, I forgot to tell you. Captain Aizen did give me permission to stay out here longer.”

“Harder,” Aizen ordered, and you squeezed your hands tighter around him.

“He did?” She sounded uncertain, not wanting to doubt her Captain but also seeming confused as to why he didn’t mention it to her. Aizen groaned, loudly. You snuck a glance up at his face and saw him watching you with unadulterated, sadistic glee.

You took pity on Momo. “He agreed right before I came out. I told him I was still disappointed in myself from a few days ago, and I wanted to make it up to him.” You felt him twitch in your hands again and tried not to grin. Stroking his ego along with his dick was a surefire way to get him in a better mood. “It completely slipped my mind to get it in writing or to inform you. Please forgive me.”

Aizen made another noise at your last words and you returned your mouth to him, trying to keep up the positive karma momentum. Hinamori smiled and said it was fine, thanks for letting her know and she admires your loyalty and dedication. The irony wasn’t lost on you as she walked away, leaving you at his mercy with your hands and mouth wrapped around his shaft and your own body desperately wanting. You wasted no time in trying to make up for lost time, hoping the interruption was more teasing than annoying. You shivered when Aizen ran his hand through your hair again, reciprocating with a lick all the way up his length. The resulting groan and shudder almost made this whole ordeal worth it. You coyly licked the precum off his tip and slid as much of him into your mouth as you could, enjoying the hand on your head and the noises coming from him. You never held the illusion that Aizen was ever submissive to you, but you enjoyed the knowledge that he enjoyed your attention, that he received pleasure from your time together and would let his composure slip just enough to let you know it. You were sure Aizen never lost control of himself (though even if he did, you acknowledged, he was strong enough that it would never leave him vulnerable), but hearing the unrestrained sounds of lust coming from him was a reward in and of itself.

You took a risk and hummed low in your throat and felt him jerk inside of your mouth. You did it again, so wrapped up in your efforts to please your Captain that you failed to notice the other presence come up behind you. “Excuse me, Officer L/N. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

This time you nearly jumped out of your skin, yelping and whirling around so fast you almost cricked your neck. For a few terrible seconds your heart refused to beat, and you were just about to accept that you were going to die giving your boss a blowjob when you realized the second intruder was looking at what was likely eye level too. Aizen’s voice was full of smug superiority when he told you, “I didn’t tell you to stop.” You took a deep, silent breath and made your hands move again, wondering what on Earth Aizen was making your illusion do right now to keep up this act.

“My apologies, Captain Ichimaru. I didn’t see you approach. You startled me.”

“That’s quite alright. You looked like you were deep in concentration.” You didn’t dare put your mouth around Aizen again; Gin was tricky enough to talk to without having to worry about maneuvering around a penis. Instead you worked diligently with your hands, trying to use every trick you knew to keep Aizen satisfied and your illusion safe. “I was wondering if, perhaps, you knew where Captain Aizen was.”

“Is he not in his office?” you asked innocently, trying to calm your heartbeat. Aizen smirked and you wished you had closed up your robe a bit before getting too wrapped up in this blowjob. Even if he couldn’t see you, being half-exposed in front of Gin made your skin crawl.

“I checked, but he wasn’t there.” A small, pouty frown appeared on his face. “I have some very important reports to deliver to him, but he’s nowhere to be found.”

The only thing worse than talking with Gin was talking with him in a manner where you couldn’t be straightforward, as you could in your secret meetings. But no one would buy a friendship with the 11th Seat of Squad 5 with the Captain of Squad 3, so part of your charade was forced deference. “I wish I could be of help,” you said apologetically, bringing one hand up to earnestly rub the tip of Aizen’s shaft. He gasped and groaned, and you felt more precum leak out. You spread it with your hand and felt his muscles tighten in response. “But I’ve been here for the past hour, so I don’t know where he would have gone.” You heard his breathing stutter and slowed, recognizing it as a cue to his approaching orgasm.

“Faster, Y/N.” You sped up your hands and glanced up at him dubiously, wondering if Aizen was covering the noise of skin on skin with his illusion or if that was up to you. Aizen’s grip in your hair tightened.

“Well, that’s disappointing. I don’t suppose you have an idea of when he’ll come back?”

“It may be soon, but he may be out for a while. He likes checking in on everyone in his division and taking his time, so it can be hard to tell with him.”

The grip on your hair was painful and you involuntarily hissed. “Is something wrong, Officer L/N?” Gin asked, his grin back to its usual proportions.

“Just a muscle cramp,” you gasped out. Aizen was pulling your hair now, lining you up with the front of his member again. You met his eyes and shuddered at the dominance in them. His silent command was obeyed; you gripped harder than you had been and worked your hands up and down his shaft vigorously. You had a suspicion of where this was going and couldn’t delude yourself into thinking Aizen wouldn’t sink that low. After all, this was supposed to be a punishment. “I’ve been at this for a while."

Both men chuckled and you flinched at the correlation. “Yes, it does appear that way,” Gin said. You couldn’t really tell, but you had a feeling his eyes swept up and down your illusionary form. “But hard work has its rewards, yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed, voice straining under Aizen’s brutal grip and the solidifying knowledge as to what was about to happen. You took a breath and braced yourself, repeating the trick from before to get it over with. Aizen came with a self-indulgent groan, spraying his semen all over your face, hair, and chest. You tightened your lips and continued pumping, helping him ride out his orgasm until he said, “That’s enough.” You grimaced as you released him, hands aching from the exertion and duration. You slumped back, resting your butt on your calves as you kneeled, wiping some of the liquid off the best you could while trying to hide it from obvious parts of your clothes. Hopefully Aizen would let you change.

“Well, I can see that you’re worn out, so I’ll let you get some rest. Captain Aizen, shall I just leave these on your desk?”

You froze and glanced up. Gin, smiling like nothing was wrong, locked eyes with Aizen and Aizen stared right back, grinning wolfishly. Your jaw slowly dropped, especially when Aizen casually said, “That would be best, Gin. I think I’m in need of a shower, so it will be a while before I come back to the office.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Oh, and Y/N,” he said, looking down to meet your gaze. Your naïve hopes that somehow, just because he could see Aizen he wouldn’t see the entire situation, combusted into smoke and you wished you could join it. “You might want to clean yourself up before heading back inside. Hard work is good, but proper presentation of one’s self and uniform is important for Soul Reapers such as us.” You watched, slack-jawed, as he walked away, whistle as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Knowing him, he probably didn’t.

You didn’t try to stand, not trusting your body or your senses to keep you upright. Instead you looked at Aizen, who was beginning to put his uniform back in order. “Did you plan that?”

He chuckled. “No, that was entirely unexpected. But it was too perfect to not take advantage of.”

Your words left your mouth before you could even think. “You are such an asshole.”

“Careful, Y/N, or I’ll have to discipline you again.” The playful yet steel glint in his eye told you he wasn’t joking, so you dipped your head and apologized. “That’s better. Now…” he appraised you for a few seconds before smiling. “You and I will head back to the office and continue work as usual. Once you’re done for the day, you may change and shower, not that anyone in the office will notice any difference. If you’re good for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

You almost couldn’t believe that Sosuke Aizen would abuse his near-limitless powers for sex, but the promise in his voice made you determined to ignore the questionable ethics. “Sounds like a deal, _Lord_ Aizen,” you murmured, leaning forward to kiss the front of his haori. You noted his pleasant surprise and pleased growl, a hand returning to pat your head. You smirked. So yeah, you were going to spend the rest of the day covered in his semen, teased but not satisfied, and having to deal with the embarrassing memory of what Gin saw. But it’s not like it was a secret from you, Tosen, or Gin that Aizen was sexually involved each of you. The only difference was that so far, not one of the three of you had ever seen it and Gin would be the only one not embarrassed at getting caught. But if Aizen was as fair as he claimed, you’d get some sort of appropriate compensation soon.

And, you thought as you stretched, not bothering to properly robe yourself and noting Aizen appreciatively eyeing your body, if all went well you’d be living Momo’s highest fantasy tonight. So at least there was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really have no idea where I came up with this one. I really didn’t think I’d ever write a chapter for Aizen, he’s just so…boring half the time. And as kinky as domination can be, in his case I personally would be more tempted to just slap him. I guess this was more of an exercise in me trying to write about things I don't normally write about?


	5. Gin/Reader Pt2 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More self-indulgent trash. Continuing from Pt1

Naturally, the aftermath was less pleasant.

“Hey, Y/N, come play Pocky with me!”

“So did you actually kiss or what?”

“Y/N and the Captain, sitting in a tree~”

“You know, I’d teach you how to play Pocky the _real_ way.”

“No offense, but you have a weird taste in men.”

“What, you’re too good to play with the rest of us?”

That last comment came from the 5th Seat while you all milled about the office, you trying to focus on paperwork and most everyone else up keeping the constant stream of inappropriate comments, questions, and suggestions that had been flowing all day. You weren’t surprised that word got out, but it still wearied you. It had been two days and you had naively hoped everyone would have dropped it by now. Instead, no matter where you went you were either bombarded by questions and comments or subject to not-so-discreet looks and whispers. Some, like Captain Kyoraku, accepted your telling of the story with minor teasing. Others, like 3rd Seat Hitsugaya, not only assured you that you didn’t have to explain yourself but pleaded that you didn’t even talk about it. Most everyone else fell into the barrage category.

“Guys, knock it off,” Izuru said from his desk. His order was half-hearted; being authoritative had never quite been his strong suit. “Quit bugging her.”

“Why? It’s a fair question.” The others laughed, all good-natured. You knew very few them actually meant harm, at least in your own squad, but the ceaseless teasing and questions were evolving from itching to grating. At least you had been able to keep mostly to your own Division, where people knew you, and Gin, better. You’d only heard snippets of the rumors flying around other Divisions, especially the 11th, and you weren’t looking forward to trying to explain what happened in an attempt to dispel any negative myths. It all more or less made sense to you now, and you genuinely saw the value in his lesson. But everyone else… “Is it because he’s a Captain?”

“It’s because he stole my zanpakuto from me and it was the only way to get it back,” you said clearly, not removing your eyes from the paper. Maybe you had given your co-workers too much faith in their ability to comprehend your situation. And maybe you should give yourself more credit for being able to logically explain it.

“So you played Pocky with him?”

You sighed. “Yes, because he said that was the only way to get my zanpakuto back. You all know very well I couldn’t have out-muscled, out-witted, or out-ran him. I had to.”

The 6th Seat leaned seductively against your desk. “So, Y/N, what will you do if _I_ steal your zanpakuto?”

“I will uppercut you directly to heaven’s front door,” you muttered darkly, earning a laugh from the others and a grimace from the 6th Seat. It wasn’t long afterwards that the group trickled away, maybe sensing your growing irritation and deciding they had teased you enough. Soon it was just you and Izuru left in the office, you passing along reports to him in silence and him taking them just as quietly. After a while, he coughed and said, “So, _are_ you doing okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I wish people would drop it, but I guess it was a memorable spectacle.” Izuru nodded, more out of nervousness than agreement. You rotated your wrist, loosening up some of the tendons. “Seriously, it’s fine. It was weird at first, but Captain Ichimaru and I already debriefed and everything is good.”

“What was that like?”

You shrugged. “He apologized for putting me into such an uncomfortable situation and said he hoped he hadn’t overstepped his bounds or jeopardized my standing with my peers and subordinates. I told him he probably did, but I didn’t think there would be any lasting damage. If I hadn’t won I would feel a lot worse about it, but—“

“Wait, did he admit that you won?”

“Said I passed with flying colors,” you told him, unable to keep the pride out of your voice. “And yeah, obviously I never want to be publically embarrassed in front of my colleagues again or have my zanpakuto stolen. But for what it was…I think I got something out of it and it could have been worse. I’m just waiting for everyone else to get over it now.”

“I guess that makes sense. I’m glad you’re taking this so well. I was worried you’d be more upset, especially with the way Ikkaku and Yumichika have been acting.”

You rolled your eyes and passed him another document. “Yeah, well, maybe someday I can ask Captain Ichimaru to convince Captain Zaraki to pull the same stunt with them. I feel like he’s just crazy enough to do it.”

“Captain Ichimaru or Captain Zaraki?”

You pondered it. “Both.”

 

* * *

 

It was getting dark when you two finally wrapped up for the night; neither of you had seen Gin leave but a quick check in his office told you he’d been gone for hours. Izuru sighed, closed the Captain’s door, and went to grab his bag. “Hey, I’m going to meet Shuuhei and Rangiku for drinks in a bit,” he said. “Do you want to come?”

 “No thanks,” you said, rubbing your eyes and yawning. “I’m ready for a quiet evening, and as much as I love you guys…” Izuru’s understanding smile brought a grin to your own face, and you split ways soon after that, making your way back to your own room as the sun touched the horizon. Your hopes for a quiet evening came true. You showered, made dinner and a lunch for tomorrow, and then had hours to catch up on some recreational reading with your favorite blanket and a cup of hot tea.

You read, but progress was slower than usual. Idle daydreams about your Captain weren’t uncommon for you, but you were finding it difficult to stay in the realm of “idle” when you had so much more material to think about. You replayed the incident in your head, caught up in the little moments you didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on at the time they happened. Your forehead and cheek still tingled where his hair had brushed against you, as did your nose when it skimmed lightly against his own. He had inhaled then, sharp enough for you to hear, and you swore you could see the barest hint of blue, as if he had opened his eyes just a little bit more…

You blinked, realizing you’d lost track of where you were on your page. With a sigh, you backtracked a few paragraphs to where you could pick up where you left off, and a minute later you caught your thoughts wondering again.

It was hard not to indulge in fantasies when he was such a shameless person. While nothing he did was blatantly sexual, he clearly enjoyed toeing boundaries and making others uncomfortable. Upon joining the 3rd Division, you had quickly come to accept that personal space would be invaded and that whether he meant to or not, the casual drawl of his voice and the occasional drop in pitch was downright sensual. Even talking about cleaning the office sounded like a seduction in the works. And then he did what he did the other day, making you eternally grateful that everybody was too hung up on the pocky game to ask the obvious question of, _How did he steal your zanpakuto in the first place?_

You wanted to say the answer was you didn’t know, but you did. You were caught off-guard and had frozen. You had been taking a break from paperwork, standing by the railing overlooking a courtyard, minding your own business and breathing fresh air, when he had casually approached you and started talking. At first it was just idle chatter. Then partway through a sentence you realized he was right by your side and his hand was on your hip. You had turned to him, unsure of what to say or do, and he took a step closer, bringing his face close and wrapping his other arm around your waist. You didn’t even remember what he had been saying by that point, too hung up on his body being so close to yours and his hands painting small, skin-crawlingly pleasurable circles on your waist through your clothes. You were completely lost until he had asked, “And you know what else?” You asked what, and his grin was full of mischief when he declared, “I have your zanpakuto,” and was then gone.

It hadn’t taken you long to go after him, and then the Pocky game happened and you forgot about the actual theft until later. The memory made your ears burn, and you hoped he hadn’t recognized your hesitation for what it was. Your Captain didn’t need to know about your crush on him. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that argued that because Gin had never been _that_ physically direct with you before, paired with the pocky game, maybe it meant something. While fully aware and indulgent of your feelings, you kept to a firm standard that it couldn’t affect your _actual_ working relationship. Becoming lost in Gin was dangerous, both personally and professionally. There wasn’t a strict “No Romance” policy between Captains and their subordinates, but there didn’t have to be. Most everyone could recognize the undesirable outcomes.

But you were in your home and out of your uniform and Gin was out on a mission for the next several days. So in the comfort of your own dark bedroom, you let your hands join your mind in wandering.

You didn’t think of yourself as someone who was necessarily easy to impress or seduce, but you melted under your own touch imagining it was his. Finally, you let your fantasy play out where the game _had_ gone different, where you hadn’t stopped just shy of Gin’s lips. Where you weren’t in public and surrounded by a crowd of Soul Reapers, but somewhere secluded, secured, and _private_. Where you could lean into his chest, push him to the floor, slant your mouth against his while his hands roamed your body. You shivered at the thought, of his captivating mouth pressed against yours, or trailing kisses down your neck, your chest, your stomach, on the inside of your thighs before teasing your core. That there would be breath against your skin and fine, silver hair to tug on and feel against your neck and shoulders.

You were always careful. You never let slip any names or titles when you pleasured yourself, mostly out of paranoia, but to your credit you there were some weird characters in the Seireitei who had too much time on their hands and a passion for getting dirt on others. Like Gin. You wondered if he’d be the type to get off on hearing his own name. If it’d turn him on to have his title purred into his ear as you rode him or pleaded as he teased you until you begged. You had no doubt he’d be as much of a tease and caring sadist in bed as he was in the office. But you wanted to see other expressions, see him gazing at you with longing and appreciation and hear him moaning in pleasure. The imagined expressions sent a rush of heat through you. You thought back to the times he’d called you by your first name and twisted the tone slightly, your imagination making it huskier, hungrier, even more seductive than you already found it.

You bit your lip and held back a groan, wondering what his reaction would be if he knew who you thought of doing this. You could imagine him being incredibly smug about it, asking you to show him. The thought sent a jolt of arousal through you, pushing you closer to the edge. Your fingers circled your clit and you thought of those startling blue eyes watching you, drinking in the sight of you as you massaged your breasts, trailed your fingers along your thighs before slipping inside of you, him growing hard as he watched you please yourself. It sped up your release and you came quietly, squeezing your eyes shut as you held the image of Gin in your head. You wanted to feel him inside you as you came, hear him groan your name when you brought him to his own release. To experience the afterglow of a good orgasm with him curled up at your side, not alone in your silent, dark bedroom. You lay in the same position for a while, still imagining vague scenarios where this would somehow work out. Then you laughed, rolled your eyes at yourself, and rolled onto you side to get into a more comfortable position. You had long since been okay with the fact that these were fantasies and nothing more; you were happy enough where you were now. You had a good Captain and Lieutenant, mostly good co-workers, a relatively drama-free life, and you were content with that. No use complicating any of that with impossible goals.


	6. Gin/Reader Pt3 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought things wouldn't be all that complicated.

Gin had left you alone for the most part after the game, apparently deciding you deserved a break and focused on teasing his other officers. Izuru got staplers with all the staples backwards and separated from one another, setting him behind on office work for hours while he painstakingly reversed each one because all the other staplers and staples had mysteriously disappeared for not only your barracks, but the surrounding ones as well. The 4th Seat’s desk and chair was moved an inch to the left each time she left the room, which went unnoticed by her until muscle memory took over and she went to lean against a desk that was no longer there. The 6th Seat complained of feeling sticky for days and later found a half-melted Jolly Rancher stuck in the pipe of their shower head.

You had laughed along with the others, taken pity on Izuru and helped him with maybe a hundred staples, and even aided Gin three of the times he moved his 4th Seat’s desk. The teasing about the game had slowly died down, especially once Izuru went out for drinks with Renji and the next day Ikkaku realized he couldn’t rely on the red-head to continue making jokes with him. Everything had returned to normalcy, or as normal as things got in the 3rd Division. You still thought to yourself it was insane that some divisions simply didn’t prank one another, or would be punished for doing so. You couldn’t imagine walking into your office without a healthy amount of suspicion that something could be amiss.

You leaned back in your chair and rolled your neck in circles, hoping to ease some of the tension out of it. The clock read 10 at night and despite the company, you wanted to go home. It was two weeks after The Incident and Izuru was sent out on an extended mission, leaving you to handle most of the work for his position as well as your own. The downsides, you had realized, were longer workdays without much extra pay, painful eyeballs from reading so many extra reports, sore and cramped muscles from sitting in a chair for longer, and the pitying glances from your peers as they left for the night and you continued to scribble away. The upsides, though, was that you were getting baked goods by your friends who felt sorry for you, you were promised a Hollow-patrol after the long holiday weekend, and you got to spend more time with Gin, who was splitting Izuru’s paperwork with you.

The night shifts started out fun, full of playful banter, juicy gossip, and deeper talks about training and philosophy and life. But those dwindled as the clock ticked on, until the only sounds were crickets from the open window, the scratch of pens on paper, and occasional creak of a chair as you shifted your weight or passed something to the next desk over, which was received with a murmured thanks.

You stifled a yawn and Gin glanced over at you, frowning slightly. “You may leave, if you’d like,” he said. “You’ve already done more than enough work for today, and there’s no reason for both of us to suffer through this.”

“Thanks, but I’d feel bad just leaving you here. Besides, the paperwork will go faster if we both work on it.”

“Splitting the reward is a nice concept, but in this case it might not be worth it. An extra two hours of sleep between the two of us is hardly the same as an extra four or five for you alone.”

You shrugged. “Well, if I had cared about numbers I’d have left for Squad 12 by now.” You were rewarded with a slight chuckle and more seriously you added, “I’m happy to be of help, really. I just feel bad you have to help me with Izuru’s work when you’ve still got plenty of your own to do.”

“It’s my pleasure,” was the reply, and you bit back a grin. There it was again, that unintentional, downright seductive drawl _._ “I feel fortunate to have such a diligent and loyal 3 rd Seat,” he added, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “It certainly makes times like these much more enjoyable.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, hoping the catch in your voice wasn’t too noticeable. You wanted to blush from the rare direct praise, but you fought it down, rolling your head again while saying, “Like I said, I’m just happy to be able to help.”

You winced, having rolled your head a bit too far to one side and in doing so triggered a dull but tight pain. _I need to get new pillows_ , was the only thought you had before a pair of cool, steady hands placed themselves on your neck and began to move in small, gentle circles. You stiffened, for a second afraid to open your eyes, and when you did you confirmed that you were not, in fact, imagining things. Gin had come up to stand behind you and was softly but firmly massaging your neck, sending tingles down your spine and more specific relief wherever his fingers worked out a loose knot.

“Uhhh, Captain?” He made a small “hm” noise. “What…” _What are you doing?_ was a waste of a question, so you changed it to, “Why are you…?” You didn’t want to finish the sentence. Asking your Captain why he was giving you an unsolicited and impromptu massage was too weird, even by this Squad’s standards.

“Your neck is clearly bothering you. What better way to thank you for all your excellent work than relieving some of your own pain?”

“Oh.” He made it sound so logical, though your muddling thoughts protested it wasn’t. “Thanks,” you murmured again, quieter this time. He hummed again and found a particularly tight knot; you inhaled sharply in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he kneaded it, repeating in your head, _Don’t moan, don’t you dare moan, don’t you dare fucking moan._ “This…this isn’t going to turn into some kind of prank or game, is it?”

He laughed. “Is it so hard to believe that I’m capable of doing something nice?”

“That isn’t an answer to my question. Though…no, I guess it’s not.”

“I give you my word as a Captain, this is entirely free of schemes or games. It’s just for you to relax and enjoy for however long you want.” _Well, damn_. You stayed relatively still, unwilling to let this opportunity go despite the oddness of it. Because Gin or not, you were not turning down a free massage, so you let him continue as he pleased and occasionally turned your head or pushed into his touch to get the most of it. At first you weren’t sure you’d be able to fully relax, not with all the questions and warnings going off in your head. But you began to notice your awareness settling into a content haze. His touch was precise and he applied the perfect amount of pressure for each stroke. You wondered where he got this good at giving massages. He seemed to be able to locate every sore muscle, every strained tendon, and he treated each one with the tenderness and persistency it deserved. He took his time and you didn’t dare glance at the clock. This was heaven and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

He had started at the base of your neck and worked upwards, and you thought he’d stop once he reached your skull. Instead, he brushed some of your hair aside and you could feel the goosebumps rise from the contact, praying he somehow wouldn’t notice. Then he began working back down, sometimes doing little more than tracing over your skin with the tips of his fingers, soothing your nervousness and the sore muscles. Your eyes drifted until they were half open and you bowed your head slightly, allowing him more access. You couldn’t tell if you had imagined his quiet, almost silent chuckle when you did so.

A soft breeze trickled through the window and you shivered, your oversensitive skin welcoming the new sensation. Though most of you was in a subdued, blissful daze, you couldn’t help but think of his hands elsewhere. Drifting up your thighs with the same tenderness and feather-light touch, kneading your hips as you straddled him, brushing hair out of your face as he leaned over and—

\--slipped his fingers beneath your chin and turned you so you were looking up at him. You blinked stupidly, trying to recover from the bombardment of lingering pleasure, disappointment that he had stopped, and lust-filled thoughts. Gin applied pressure and you followed, allowing him to guide you to your feet with nothing more than two fingers under your chin. You could feel your rapid heartbeat against the tips of his fingers and you tried to ask a question but stopped when you saw twin slivers of blue regarding you lazily but with intention. You stared back, trying to make sense of the situation. With a shuddering inhale, you managed to say, “Captai—“ before his thumb traced your lower lip. You stiffened, unable to tear your gaze away from his stare. Whatever he had been looking for, he must have found it, It was almost as if because his grin widened and he simply said, “Y/N.”

Then he stepped forward and kissed you.

Your mind reeled, failing to jump-start back into reality because _this has to be a dream_ , you thought. The press of his lips against yours couldn’t be real. The hand under your chin slid around to the base of your neck and you could _feel_ your knees weaken. You closed your eyes, took a breath through your nose, then opened them again. Gin was still there, his mouth still pressed against yours, hand cradling your head with such a persuasive gentleness that you basically melted into his hold. Then he shifted, changed the angle of his lips slightly and that caused some of your hair to slide through his fingers. It sent tingles around your scalp and you realized two things. One was that you needed to brace yourself against something right now in case you actually were about to faint.

The second was that, given the way this was going, Gin probably wouldn’t mind being a support beam.

With that realization came a rush of heat, from nervousness or arousal or both you couldn’t tell, but it spurred you to move. One hand landed near his hip and the other reached up to his shoulder, pulling him closer to you as you returned the kiss. You could feel his grin even as he made a low hum in his throat. His other hand mirrored one of your own, coming to rest on your hip and closing the final distance until your bodies touched. You gasped at the contact and Gin took the chance to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth with ease. You tightened your grip on his clothes, desperate for more contact and anything to feel more. Your head reeled from the combination of exhaustion and trying to keep up with Gin’s unpredictable actions. There was so much all at once. You were acutely aware of every part of Gin that was in contact with you; his body flush against yours, his hands pressing you closer and one running through your hair, your tongues sliding over each other in exploration. You relaxed your hand on his shoulder enough to bring it up, tracing over the layers of cloth to his neck to slide around to the base of his neck, weaving his hair through your fingers. It was as silky and fine as you had imagined. A shiver and quiet groan was your reward, and as much as that noise sent a wave of heat through you, it also snapped part of your hazy mind back into reality.

You were kissing Gin. You were kissing your Captain. It didn’t matter so much that Gin had started it, this was dangerous territory and you needed out. You pulled back on Gin’s hair, earning another, less quiet moan from him, so then you pushed away with the hand by his hip. Two short, insistent shoves was all he needed to get the message; piece by piece, the two of you separated. Your face flushed as reality set back in and you withdrew your hands, holding them nervously by your chest. Close to your rapidly beating heart.

Gin looked more confused than anything else. “Is something wrong, Y/N?”

You made sure you had your breath before you spoke. You still sounded shaky, at least to your ears. “Captain, what are we doing?”

“I believe we were just—“

“No, I…” You _almost_ facepalmed despite the seriousness of the situation. “I know what we were doing. But…you’re my Captain.”

“And?”

_And?_ you thought, gut morphing from turned on to anxious. “I don’t know, isn’t this inappropriate or unethical?” You had recited this argument a thousand times to yourself, but Gin did more than work the tension from your neck and turned you on. He turned your thoughts to mush. “You’re my Captain. My boss. Y-You pay my salary. Isn’t it, I don’t know, bad to mix this kind of stuff?”

“Huh.” Gin’s confused expression remained, mouth pulled into a little frown. “I was under the impression that you wanted this.”

“I do, but—“ You cut yourself off, blush intensifying. Gin’s frown was gone, replaced with his usual, smug smirk. You had clapped a hand over your mouth without realizing it, unable to believe you had fallen for his bait. Then you realized, with mounting embarrassment, that he must have known, to say something like that. You tried to ask _How long have you known?_ but you couldn’t get your throat to relax enough to get the sounds out.

“Because I’ve been thinking about you for a while now, too.” You were going to combust into a pile of ash at the rate this was going. “And for the record, I don’t see anything wrong with you being my 3rd in Command.”

You took a deep breath and willed yourself to speak. “I just always thought it would be frowned upon.”

“How so?”

“This kind of…stuff complicates things.” You didn’t think you could have gotten the word _sex_ out even if your life had depended on it. “There’s social and professional boundaries that get crossed.” The distance was doing you good; the haze had begun to clear and your vocabulary returned. “It clouds clear lines and can give people the wrong impression. You could get accused of playing favorites, I could get accused of cheating my way to my position. We could both lose our credibility and merit and maybe even our positions within the Seireitei. And yes,” you continued on, seeing him open his mouth and anticipating the argument he was about to make. “It does matter what other people think because we operate in a system that depends on interoperability, standardization, communication, and clear boundaries of authority, both within our own divisions and when dealing with inter-Divisionary projects.”

Gin chuckled, holding his palms up to concede your point. “As always, your thoughts are keen and insightful,” he said, the look of appreciation in his eyes melting some of your resistance. “Though I’ll have you know I care little for the opinions of others and would hate to think that you’re holding yourself back because of that. You’ve worked hard for your accomplishments; anyone who dares argue otherwise will find very little evidence for it.” One of his hands came up and twirled a lock of your hair around his fingers. He saw your shiver and his grin widened. “I have faith in both our abilities to be discreet.”

He must have seen the desperation in your eyes, the fear that was _really_ eating at you, because he added, “And you should know by now that I don’t play favorites. Whatever happens outside of work hours won’t interfere with either of our jobs or my responsibilities as your Captain.”

You swallowed. “Can you promise that?”

“I can.” He sounded so serious that you almost gave in. The thought of re-closing that distance, picking up where you left off, was sorely tempting. You imagined closing the windows, pulling him against you while he pushed you against your desk, wrapping your legs around his lean hips and feeling his body grind against yours. Him grinding into you against your deck until you screamed his name, or moving into his office so you could ride him on his comfortable, padded, lavish chair. Your breath caught, almost feeling his lips ghosting down your neck and his dexterous fingers teasing you. Gin must have seen the struggle in your eyes because he stepped closer, tugging slightly on the hair between his fingers. You followed obediently, gaze stuck on his lips as he moved towards you. Then they flickered up to his eyes and you saw him watching you intently.

You were half a second away from leaning in when he said, “Tomorrow evening I will forget to bring a folder home with me. It will contain important documents that I should probably look at that night, but it won’t be critical if they are left until the following morning.” He pulled back, letting your hair slip away from his fingers, and noted the confusion on your face. “If you happen to see them on my desk and want to bring them to me after hours, you’ll be acting completely within your right as a 3rd Seat.”

You were almost afraid to ask, but did anyways. “If I don’t?”

Gin shrugged, still smiling. “Then you’ll also be acting completely within your right as a 3rd Seat. The choice is yours, Y/N, and yours alone. There’s no punishment or negative consequence if you don’t happen to see the folder, or decide not to bring it to me. You’ll decide what’s best for you.” You nodded and Gin glanced at the clock. “My, my, look at the time. We’d better call it a night; no use having either of us falling asleep at our desks tomorrow.” You muttered an agreement and began to gather your belongings, trying to steady your hands so you didn’t drop anything. He waited patiently for you and aggravation, quiet but fierce and (in your opinion) well-deserved for how he was able to behave with so much composure. _What a damn tease._

Gin held the door open for you as you left, and you murmured a thanks. “My pleasure,” he drawled. You knew he saw your blush. “Sleep well, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Captain.” He waved to you and then vanished. You took a deep breath, a mixture of crisp night air and Gin’s own unique scent (you’d been trying for years to think of a way to ask what he used in a non-creepy way), before walking briskly back to your place, unwilling to flash step. You needed the time to think. You needed a lot of time to think. And the burning sensation between your thighs told you you’d be too preoccupied once you got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was gonna try to write other chapters before this, space it out a little, but life is getting in the way.  
> The plot thickens!


	7. Kisuke/Reader (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much to report here, Kisuke is a tease and loveable sex maniac. Reader was sick for his birthday and wants to make it up to him. I’m a bit worried I’m giving too many of my good ideas to my favorite characters and won’t have anything as original for others down the line, but oh well.  
> Headcanons for the Urahara Shop family. Jinta has parents but obviously has high spirit energy, so once he realized Kisuke and Tessai did too, they came to an arrangement where he’d work for them in exchange for training. His parents are probably not the most present in his life and probably don’t know what’s really going on at the shop, they just think it’s some sort of apprenticeship. Ururu, meanwhile, probably came from a highly abusive family and after meeting her a few times, Kisuke and Tessai agreed it would be best if they took her in. Not sure which kid began working there first, but I imagine Jinta still goes home from time to time to visit the family and after a while, Kisuke and Tessai encouraged that he bring Ururu/Jinta pretended to be annoyed but invited her/his parents met her once when picking Jinta up and invited her along next time.

You heard the floorboard in the hallway creak and brought the fan up to your face, hiding your grin. A nervous excitement coursed through your body, making the phrase “butterflies in your stomach” come to your mind more than once. You squirmed a bit, doing a final scan down your body to make sure everything was in place before he came in. You had worked hard to pull this off and you wanted it to be perfect.

As the door began to slide open, you settled into the most casual, comfortable, nonchalant pose you could manage. The hand not holding the fan was tucked loosely behind your head, helping hold the hat in place so it didn’t cover your eyes and allowing for some lift to your chest. Your ankles were crossed, but not so tight that he wouldn’t be able to admire the curve of your legs and the lacy underwear that met them at your hips. The bed was made but still slightly ruffled, if only because you had been shifting around in anticipation for the last hour or so. You had given Yoruichi firm instructions to not let him come back until well after the kids were sent off to Jinta’s parents’ house for the weekend and Tessai closed up shop and left for a rare weekend away. Yoruichi herself had assured you with a wicked grin that she was perfectly fine entertaining herself for the weekend and helping with your plan, but she said she was disappointed that there wouldn’t be any good way to photograph Kisuke’s face when he saw you. You promised to try your best to describe it to her, then worked on finding a way to make photography possible once everything else had fallen into place.

The door began to slide open and Kisuke quietly called out to ask if you were still awake. “Yeah, I am,” you replied, trying to keep the smug tone out of your voice. “I wanted to show you something.”

“You shouldn’t have waited for me, sweetheart,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door gently behind him. “I know you haven’t been feeling well and—“ He stopped dead when his eyes finally landed on you. You were thankful you had the fan to cover your shit-eating grin, but you knew you couldn’t keep the triumphant gleam out of your eyes as he stared at you, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, and cheeks turning an almost indiscernible shade of pink. Though you kept silent, you were internally cheering. Kisuke was nearly impossible to get the drop on and the knowledge that you not only rendered him speechless but also made him blush was going to be something you prized forever.

Your eyes flickered down and your grin grew even wider, if that was physically possibly. You could already see some of the effects you were having on him, and you hadn’t even done anything yet other than present yourself. Getting his cloak was easy; despite common rumors, he did have several and so it was as easy as taking it from his closet when Yoruichi had persuaded him to come out for the night. It had taken some finagling to obtain his fan, of which he did not have several but had become less strict about carrying with him at all times. The hat was the hardest and required Yoruichi’s and Ururu’s help. Ururu was the one to snatch it right before they left, when Kisuke was distracted, and Yoruichi was the one to be demanding enough that Kisuke would reluctantly leave without his beloved hat.

But now, looking at his face, you realized another benefit of stealing his hat was that he had nothing to hide behind. The look of pure surprise, disbelief, and growing arousal was on full display, just like you.

You had taken efforts to make sure it all came together. The lacy lingerie was spare enough to be flattering but not entirely revealing, teasing him with the promise of skin instead of a barrage of full nudity. His cloak barely covered you at all, instead draping over your shoulders and flowing outward until it lay on the bed. Only your arms were covered by the soft fabric. His hat and fan were to help keep some of your own control, since you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face when he saw you. Plus, it was a satisfying table-turner to be using his own clothes against him.

“Y/N,” he said, mind still reeling but definitely coming back to reality. “What’s the—“

“Happy birthday,” you told him coyly, snapping the fan shut but still keeping it close to your lips. Understanding dawned and the shocked expression turned into one of shameless, unadulterated glee. His eyes took in every inch of you and he smirked when your eyes met again; despite your self-satisfaction, you still felt a twinge of self-consciousness whenever he admired you from afar and you couldn’t help but shift and blush under his gaze. You knew he got off on it too, which was obviously part of why he did it. And part of why you did this.

“You’ve been awfully busy for someone who’s been sick,” he commented lazily, eyes never leaving your body as he slid out of his haori. “In fact, I’m tempted to say you’ve never looked better.”

“I was sick the first few days,” you told him, staring at him as shamelessly as he was at you. “But then once I figured out how to make it up to you, playing sick seemed ideal. It was much easier to get everything together without you noticing.”

“Such an underhanded trick,” he whined without sounding too upset at all. He made his way over to the bed and began to crawl towards you, pants still on. He didn’t touch you, aside from faint brushes of his body as crawled over you, still letting his gaze roam all over your body. “You even had co-conspirators, didn’t you?”

“It was for a good cause, wasn’t it?” you teased, tapping him on the lip with his fan. They twitched into an even bigger grin. “And now you have all night to play with your gift.” He inhaled steadily but sharply and you swore you could feel the fabric of his pants move. You grinned and resisted the urge to grind up against him, wanting him to make the first move. He still held himself above you and as the seconds passed, you realized he wasn’t going to do anything and asked, “You okay?”

He chuckled and said, “It pains me to admit it, but I don’t know where to start. You’ve put on such an amazing display and I don’t know if I want it to end yet.”

“Well, it’s your belated birthday,” you told him, bringing your other hand to rest behind your head. “If you want to take your time and just look, then that’s what we’ll do. Anything you want tonight.”

As soon as the words left your mouth his demeanor changed, from airy and playful to something more tentative and heated. He dipped his head to kiss your cheek and then your neck and you gave a small moan, aching to have more of him touch you. Against the curve of your neck he muttered, “ _Anything_ I want?” You held your breath for a second, enough time for him to retract and meet your eyes. You thought it about it for a moment longer before repeating, “Anything.” For all his quirks and frustrating habits, you knew Kisuke and trusted him. He knew everything that was off-limits to you and he would never cross those lines. You were safe in his hands and that trust opened up a new kind of freedom and spontaneity in bed.

You could already tell he knew exactly what he wanted, and he let out a smoky chuckle that made you tremble with excitement. “Well in that case,” he said, nuzzling your neck again and moving to nibble on your ear. “How would you feel about giving me a little show?” You gave an involuntary moan when he sucked on your earlobe and you felt his hands grab onto the robe and sheets next to you. _A show?_ you thought blankly before he pulled back and settled himself on the edge of the bed, once again admiring your body.

You untucked your hands from behind your head and leaned back on your elbows. You asked, “Just to make sure, do you mean a strip tease, or…?”

“I was thinking more what you’d be doing right now if I wasn’t here.” You almost choked on your own breath, caught off guard by his request. _This is new_ , you thought, unable to think of a time either of you had mentioned it before. After the initial surprise faded, you shot him a smirk and leaned back, freeing your arms so they could move but not before fluffing a pillow slightly so you could still see Kisuke’s face. Self-conscious or not, you weren’t going to miss seeing what you could do to him.

Your hands were shaking from a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You kept your elbows on the mattress for now and laid your hands across your abdomen, splaying them out to feel as much of yourself as possible. You drifted them up slowly, caressing your own sides and then towards your sternum, separating again to lazily play with your breasts through your bra. You took your time, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself for Kisuke’s benefit as much as your own. You watched his face with a self-satisfied delight when he was unable to maintain eye contact, eyes instead flickering between yours and your hands wherever they went. After brushing across the top of your chest, you had begun moving them downwards, gentle and without hurry. Your eyes slid closed when you pushed your hands over your hips, avoiding the space between your legs but stroking down your thighs and outlining the shape of them to your audience. You could feel yourself getting warmer and wetter, both from your own actions and the undiverted attention from Kisuke. You repeated this trail with your hands once, then twice, slowly building yourself up and hopefully teasing him a little with a slip of lace against your hip or more forceful push of your breasts as you massaged them. He wanted a show, and you were damned if you weren’t going to perform long and well.

When your hand finally dipped between your legs, you could hear the stutter in his breath. It took effort to bite back your smirk; you were so used to him pulling strings and being the teasing chess master that having the tables turned was giving you a bit of a rush. You teased yourself gently before retracting you hand and you swore you heard a whining sigh of disappointment. You felt it too; you wanted to get to the good parts. You began to move your hands independently. One played with your breast while the other traced over your legs. One shifted your clothes just enough to tease him with more skin while the other occupied itself with that same skin. It was becoming harder to stay away from your sensitive spots, especially with Kisuke staring at you with such obvious enjoyment and arousal. Bringing a finger to your lips, you held eye contact with him and gave it a lick and then sucked on it, noting the twitch within the folds of his pants. Your rubbed yourself with you other hand, humming around your finger until you decided to move on. You brought your hand down, slowly slipped it into your folds, and moaned at the gentle insertion and small ripples of pleasure it brought.

Kisuke’s breath quickened as you played, humming and moaning as you pleased. His hands twitched and you imagined his burning palms and dexterous fingers replacing your own. As you brushed over a sweet spot your hips gave an involuntary jerk. It was difficult to not add your other hand to the equation, playing with your clit to more quickly build your impending orgasm. But you kept it roaming, or playing with your breasts, massaging them or lightly rubbing your nipples. By now you had started to pant and you moaned again, trying to convince yourself it was for Kisuke’s pleasure but knowing it was for your own as well.

Kisuke’s eyes were glued to you, taking in every movement from the path your hand traced to your lust-hazed eyes drifting closed to the small contractions of your muscles as you forcefully paced yourself. Most of the light-hearted amusement was gone, replaced with a burning intensity that only added fuel to the fire growing in you. It was probably only the years of carefully crafted and maintained self-control that was keeping him at the foot of the bed. Or his own soft masochistic tendencies. Regardless, you could see he was as hot and bothered as you were and the thoughts of him over you, on you, in you were slowly filling up your brain.

You decided to indulge, but not before ensuring you were still in control. You bit your lip and grinned, tucking your hand behind your head and pulling a foot in to rest on the inside of your thigh. The movement made it easier to push deeper into yourself and you felt a rush of victory when Kisuke moaned and gripped the fabric of his pants tighter. The look on his face when his eyes met yours was so hot that you felt yourself contract around your own fingers. “Mmmm, Kisuke,” you breathed, turning your head towards the bend of your arm. You slid your fingers out and began to rub your clit, the hand behind your head clenching the pillow sheets. The minor constriction sent slow, building waves of pleasure through you and your hips jerked again. The sound of hot, heavy breathing filled the room. You squirmed in your own desire while Kisuke stayed rock-still aside from his rising and falling chest and flickering eyes. His palms were sweating with the effort but he didn’t want to break the spell, his attention rapt solely on you. When your head jerked back and your toes curled against your thigh, he whined your name and that was enough to give you the final push you needed. Gasping, you shuddered and felt yourself constrict around nothing, your orgasm pulsing through you. You opened your eyes partway to look at Kisuke, who stared at you with open delight. For moments you held his gaze, riding out your orgasm until your self-consciousness turned you away. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the ebbing tide, slowing your fingers in time until they stilled and you lay as a sweaty, partially satisfied mess.

Once you were sure you were partially recovered, you opened your eyes and glanced back at Kisuke. He looked as much a mess as you were, clearly repressing the impulse to climb on top of you and pleasure you until you were screaming. His breathing was still fast and shallow. You smiled and removed your hand from your underwear and crooked a finger at him; within seconds he was over you, kissing your mouth, your jawline, your neck, hands burying themselves in your hair and grinding his hips against yours.

“Mmmh, eager, aren’t we?” you asked between kisses, amazed you could keep your voice as level as you did. The stubble from his cheeks and light, fluttering kisses were sending shivers all the way to your toes.

“Oh sweetheart, you have no idea,” he murmured against your neck, voice heavy with promise. You moaned and he sucked on a spot on your neck he knew drove you crazy. The echo of your gasp off the walls of his room confirmed that. You could feel how hard he was through his pants and each push of his hips made you ache with want. He sunk onto you, careful not to crush but enough so that all of your senses were enveloped by him. His hair brushed against your face and neck. His stubble tickled you and his lips caressed every inch of you they could. When they reached your lips, you could taste your own sweat on them. Your scents mixed; sweat, sex, and the cologne he wore filled your nose and your brain. He took the hand you had pleased yourself with and kissed your fingertips, then slipped some of your fingers into his mouth. You writhed beneath him, the only thought running your mind was how much you wished his tongue was between your legs rather than around your fingers.

He seemed to think similar, because after another breath-takingly passionate kiss he began to trail down your torso, spending an uncharacteristically short time paying attention to your breasts as he worked towards his destination. Your doubts about your choice in underwear were cleared; he clearly loved the sight of them and didn’t even bother to remove your bra or underwear, instead using it against you as he licked at you through the fabric.

“Kisuke,” you gasped, then bit back a subsequent moan as he applied more pressure. _He’s going to tease me until I lose my mind_ , you thought, with apprehension and not without a minor thrill. Part of the joys and struggles of Kisuke being your lover was endless teasing, inside the bedroom and out. It was no secret that he took joy in having control of everyone around him, even he chose not to indulge in it or had any malicious intentions with it. It was probably the reason Yoruichi was his best friend, you had thought before. She was the singular person to take no shit from him at any given point.

And thought it could be at times torturous, you loved it. But this was definitely one of the torturous times and you could feel your patience and sanity beginning to unravel.

Your apprehension was so great that you yelped in surprise when a finger entered you, hardly meeting any resistance. Kisuke chuckled against your skin as he curled his finger slightly and felt your response. “Oh princess, you feel amazing,” he praised, licking you again through the black cloth while his finger continued to explore you. You felt a rush of heat at the compliment and he laughed again, adding another finger.

“You’re…” You inhaled and tried again. “You’re being awfully generous for someone who’s birthday we’re supposed to be celebrating. I thought, I thought _I_ was supposed to be pleasuring _you_.”

“Oh, you are,” he promised, raising himself on his elbows enough to look at you, gaze a mixture of cunning disguised with laziness, burning heat, and genuine tenderness. “And like you said, we have all night.” He had the audacity to wink at you before kissing your stomach, slowly kissing every inch of skin while his fingers pumped and curled in and out of you. By the time he reached the black cloth again, you had given up on dignity. You moaned and rocked against his fingers, growling in frustration when he continued to tease you through your underwear.

“Kisuke—“

“What’s the magic word?” he asked, making sure his tongue and lips didn’t make contact with your skin.

“Fuck.”

He chuckled. “Appealing, but not quite the word I was looking for.”

You bit your lip and then decided dignity had packed up its bags and left long ago. “Please, Kisuke,” you begged softly, but full of need. “Please, I want to feel you.”

He exhaled and kissed your stomach again. His soft hair cascaded down to your sides in an almost unbearable tickling sensation. “As you wish, princess,” he murmured, then raised his head and added, “Put your hands behind your head.” You sucked in a breath and did so, locking both of them behind your head. A grin slowly spread as he took in the sight and he murmured something about you being beautiful before he repeated his trail down to your core. You did your best not to squirm but nothing could stop you from bucking your hips when his tongue finally slid up your slit. Kisuke used a hand to keep the fabric of your underwear aside and licked at you so eagerly that you could feel your orgasm get a kick start. You moaned, arms jerking in your attempt to keep them in place. Kisuke moaned too, sounding completely turned on, and began switching up his game. Tongue and fingers took turns on your clit and then your slit. Occasionally he’d slow just long enough to give you a long, deep lick that had you wriggling in frustration, then a barrage of short, hard licks or thrusts of his fingers or circled on your clit that had you seeing stars. You were unable to keep silent now, especially with Kisuke’s own noises encouraging your own. Your second orgasm came in a rush, surprising you and Kisuke, who did his best to help you ride it out without torturing your oversensitive nerves.

You sagged against the plush pillows and silken sheets, shaking a bit from the ferocity of it. You turned your head when Kisuke came up to your side and kissed him, shivering when his hand soothingly traced your side. “You alright?” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face.

“Never better,” you purred, willing yourself to have more energy. “What about you?” you asked, tracing a hand lightly over the bulge in his pants. He inhaled sharply and you grinned. “Must be getting pretty bothered by now, huh?”

He struggled with his words as you stroked him, returning the teasing touch from earlier. “I don’t want to push you,” he said, clearly worried but unable to stop from groaning when you gripped him harder.

“Come on, who do you take me for?” you teased, rolling up onto an elbow and into his space. The desire for good-intentioned payback helped fuel you. “Maybe I’m not a first-class Soul Reaper like you, but I can keep up, _Captain_.”

Kisuke was practically melting into your touch and you saw his sweet submission when you murmured the rarely used title into his ear. You pushed him into his back and straddled him, robe slipping on your shoulders and hair a mess from being under the hat. You ignored your minor discomfort, instead drinking in Kisuke’s moans, the heated look in his eyes, and the feel of his lean, muscled body underneath your own. He ran his hands up your thighs, your sides, then pulled you in for a deep, heated kiss. One hand buried itself in your hair and the other pressed against your undulating back, bringing you as close to him as possible. When you parted, you shot him a quick smile before straightening and working on his belt and pants, the shaking in your hands making it slightly more difficult. Kisuke breathed, “Oh, yes,” when you finally untied them and freed his neglected member. He lifted his hips to help slide his pants down and worked on kicking them off while you lowered yourself and began to pay him back from before. Unlike you, the grin never left his face as he moaned and twisted and praised while you teased with short licks, hot breaths, and light sucks. Your original thought had been to not even touch his dick for minutes and give your own body a longer break, but after feeling him hard beneath you and hearing him moaning your name, you threw that plan out the window along with your before-mentioned dignity. You’d still tease, but you were burning for him and figured he’d tortured himself enough that there wasn’t much work left for you to do.

You tasted precum when you finally took him into your mouth and began to bob your head up and down, idly stroking with your hands as well. Kisuke watched you the whole time, showering you with praise and requests in a tone that did little to disguise his pleasure. You took a certain satisfaction when you beat him to the punch when he tried to say, “Harder,” cutting himself off with a choked groan when your hand tightened around the base of his shaft. You picked up the pace and focused so intently that it was a surprise when he leaned in and pulled you back up, cradling your head and kissing you passionately as he disengaged your hand from his length.

“Too much for you?” you asked, squeezing his hips with your thighs.

“Not at all,” he lied, grin full of mischief, knowing that you knew he had been getting close.

“Sure,” you agreed, brushing the tip with your thumb. He twitched against you and inhaled sharply. Your core burned and you felt a shift in the room. “What do you want, Kisuke?” you murmured against his lips, eyes tracing the line of his nose, his beautiful grey eyes.

He sighed and said, “I want you, Y/N.” His hands shook against your skin as you kissed, slower this time but hotter and heavier, as you moved the fabric of your underwear aside and slid onto him. You gasped and he whined in the back of his throat, hands clenching on you for a second before he remembered to relax them. “You feel so good,” he repeated, pulling you closer.

“Feeling’s mutual,” you said, then pushed on his chest. “Lay back, Kisuke.”

“As you command, princess.” The atmosphere lightened slightly and he lay back down on the bed, mischief still sparkling in his eyes as he took you in. You took your time looking too, once again silently thanking the forces of the universe that this beautiful, infuriating, incredible individual was in your life. Just as you were about to move, he said, “Hold on.” He turned and reached for his hat, helping arranging it back onto your head and then lay back down, running his eyes over you appreciatively. “Perfect,” he declared, amused by your blush, and then added cheekily, “As you were.”

You got back at him for the remark with a sudden thrust and unexpected grab at his balls. He laughed, conceding defeat, and trailed off into a moan as you settled into a steady but fast past, eyes never leaving your face. You placed your hands on his torso, reveling in the feel of his muscles bunching under his skin and the slide of his dick in and out of you. You shifted, trying to find your sweet spots, when Kisuke lunged and flipped you around so you were on your back and he was over you. Amusement still lined his features but it seems he was more fervent than you had thought. His kiss combined with the fast pace of his thrusts took your breath away, left you gasping when he pulled away to kiss your jawline and nibble on an earlobe. Within seconds he had adjusted so that he was grinding into your clit with every thrust and finding sensitive spots inside of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer and deeper, and with one hand he held one of your shaking thighs to him. The other supported his weight even has he interlaced his fingers with your own.

You knew you weren’t going to last long, not with this pace and the way he was muttering into your ear about how good you felt, how amazing you were, how much he wanted to hear you moan and scream, his hot breath forming goosebumps on your neck. You obliged, moaning his name and gasping when he brushed past certain spots.

“You’re so close, princess,” he gasped, burying his face into the side of your neck. “Just a little more.” He moaned your name when you came, weaker than the previous two but still enough that he could feel you constricting around him. “Oh, Y/N.” He thrust into you three more times before coming with a low groan, buried deep inside of you and stiffening against your trembling form. Then he relaxed, and for a few moments neither of you spoke or moved, you too exhausted from the consecutive orgasms and him from the relief of long delayed gratification.

Kisuke moved first, sliding out of you and snuggling up to your side, pulling his haori over you to block the chill that threatened to settle in from his lack of body heat. He pulled you close and nuzzled against your hair. You grinned wearily and kissed him. It wasn’t long or deep, but the gentle press of his lips made your heart flutter. The gentle trail of his fingertips down your cheek made your heart melt.

He could be infuriating to no end and sometimes didn’t always express himself well, but these little gestures always spoke volumes to him as to how much he treasured you. You opened your eyes and saw his grey ones regarding you with warmth and a hint of awe. If you had the energy to you were sure you would’ve blushed, but instead you shifted so you were partially on your side facing him and freed your hand to catch his, squeezing gently and running your thumb over his knuckles.

“Sorry again I couldn’t celebrate your actually birthday,” you said, though you knew the timing of a stomach bug was beyond your control. “But I hope you know how much I value the additional year of you being in my life.”

He hid his smile by kissing your hand. “The feelings mutual,” he echoed from earlier, then his bashful grin changed into his usual playful one. “Though if this is how you always decide to make it up to me for being sick, maybe we should get you sick more often.”

“No way.” You still grinned, then worked on ridding yourself of your now ruined and itchy underwear and bra before you fell asleep with them on. “We can still have mind-blowing sex without the three days of endless vomiting.”

Kisuke gathered his equally dirty haori and tossed it to the corner. Then he wrapped you in his arms and you sighed contentedly, snuggling up against him. He gave you one last kiss and murmured a tender, “Goodnight” into your ear. You nestled your head under his chin and listened as his breaths evened out and he fell asleep. You were pretty shocked you were able to stay awake longer than him, but you could feel yourself drifting into the twilight. Before you fully faded, you glanced up at the wall and grinned. You were thankful Kisuke was such a late sleeper, since it made sneaking around easier. You were also thankful he only had eyes for you this entire evening. The haphazardly concealed video camera was probably out of battery, but it would have accomplished its mission of recording Kisuke’s face for Yoruichi. All you needed to do tomorrow was make sure you edited out the rest of it.

Content, you snuggled even closer and let sleep overtake you.


End file.
